


Live and Let Die

by casliyn



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bonnie and Clyde-Inspired, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Infidelity, Marriage, Violence, mr and mrs smith inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casliyn/pseuds/casliyn
Summary: He's one of the best Contract Killers in the country.He's killed over 75 of the world's top scumbags and criminals just for his job and the fact that his fucking marriage is proving to be more difficult than all of that is extremely telling.That's saying a lot for him.
Relationships: Amy Brookheimer & Dan Egan, Amy Brookheimer/Dan Egan
Comments: 22
Kudos: 25





	1. Between Me and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's one of the best Contract Killers in the country. 
> 
> He's killed over 75 of the world's top scumbags and criminals just for his job and the fact that his fucking marriage is proving to be more difficult than all of that is extremely telling.
> 
> That's saying a lot for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! New story alert!
> 
> I'm so happy to be posting this new story and hope that you guys enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> When you're done reading, please make sure to leave a comment and message me on Tumblr letting me know what you thought about the chapter! I love hearing from you guys because I love adding in your suggestions into the story!
> 
> Happy Reading!

_But if this ever changin' world_

  
_In which we live in_

  
_Makes you give in and cry_

  
_Say live and let die_

  
_Live and let die_

_-' Live & Let Die' by Paul McCartney_

* * *

The first time she meets him is in a hotel bar in Hopkins, Belize.

The year is 2012 and quite literally everything that could go wrong in her life is the midst of going wrong.

Her Dad had a life-threatening stroke the day before her birthday, she’s in a foreign country on a mission she wanted no parts of and now she’s dealing with her ‘loving’ fiancé whose pissed at her that she’s gone on a mission without him accompanying her.

Had he been understanding of her and her work then he could’ve at least tried to be happy for her as she takes on a mission like this but instead, locked them both in their house and refused to let her leave until they had a screaming match to discuss it.

(And it’s no surprise that nothing got accomplished from the conversation.)

According to Bill, if she loved him as he loved her then she would’ve tried to convince her boss that it would be smarter to send the two of them on the mission together versus sending Amy on her own because apparently, she isn’t as effective unless he’s there to help her.

And to that, she responded with a stern ‘Go fuck yourself’, packed her bags and got on the first flight to Belize that the company put her on.

So far she’s only been here for a good three days and is doing almost everything else in her power to avoid coming to terms with executing the job.

Usually, she’d step into her highest heels, strap her weapons of choice onto her body and into her car and go out to get the job done once and for all to leave the last few days of the vacation to treat herself to a well-earned margarita.

But for some strange reason, she just isn’t motivated.

Normally the thought of having some criminal asshole on his knees begging for mercy would get her out of her seat in an instant but now, it just leaves her all down and mopey.

And she’s many things but down and mopey are certainly not one of them.

She doesn’t know if it’s because this is her first mission without Bill or any of the members from her team but, she just doesn’t want to do it.

She just wants to order decent room service, stay in bed and watch 90s sitcoms on the hotel room’s gritty television.

By the time she hits Day 3 out of 6 and still hasn’t completed her mission, she finds herself in the hotel bar drinking herself into oblivion.

It’s somewhere around five in the afternoon and she’s getting hammered in a truly irresponsible way.

All she wants to do is be left alone and continue her pity-party of drinking but for some reason, some overly-tanned asshat just doesn’t let her do it without a fight.

“Come around here, often?” he slides onto the barstool seat next to her as she’s face deep in her fourth margarita.

“Use the same cringe pick-up line with random strangers you find in foreign bars, often?” she doesn’t even bother to look up from her drink.

And the fucking asshole just laughs at that.

And it makes her stomach churn in ways she can’t even comprehend.

Part of her misses Bill at times like these.

Walking around with Bill was like walking around with your security guard. Even though she’s good and well enough to handle herself (she kept a fucking knife in her thigh holster for fuck’s sake), it was nice having a man as intimidating as Bill to cover her from behind while she kept guard of her front.

And it helped that Bill was as dangerous as she was, he always had a gun and glare sharp enough to intimidate anyone who dared to challenge either one of them.

“Ahh..” he chuckles at her, “You’re a feisty one I see.” he taps his fingernails on the thick wood on the bar counter.

“Guess so.” she doesn’t give him an inch of her attention.

“What’s a pretty woman like yourself doing here all alone?” he pushes on further, “Husband actin’ like a dick on your honeymoon all of a sudden?”

That’s when she decides to look up and finally give this asshole a piece of her mind (as calmly as she can to avoid landing herself in a blood bath that’ll be sure to get her locked up in a foreign country), and the minute she looks up to address him once and for all, someone cuts her off.

“Hey, babe. The valet said that the car will be outside of the lobby in a few. Ready to go?”

When she looks over at the man who dared to cut her off, she’s met with yet another stranger.

But the thing about this stranger is that he’s handsome, tall and has nicer eyebrows than she does.

The look he gives her indicates that she should be smart and go along with whatever plan he has because it could lead to her getting out of this situation.

_“Oh…”_ she blinks back into reality and throws her hair over her shoulder, “Sounds like a plan….honey.” she removes herself from the stool and goes to stand near the handsome stranger, placing herself right next to him so she can size him up appropriately.

He’s tall for one. Not as tall as Bill but, he’s pretty damn tall and the height difference between the two of them makes the idea of them being a couple much more believable.

When she looks back over to the annoying stranger, he looks like a deer caught in headlights and his eyes are fully blown at the handsome man with a look of distinct fear in his hazel eyes.

“I..”

“You hit on everyone’s wives, pal?” the man slinks an arm around Amy’s waist, keeping her close.

“I..I wasn’t flirting with her...I mean you’re wife...I was just trying to be...nice.” the stranger feigns, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“Nice, huh?” the stranger turns to Amy, “Honey, did you think he was being nice to you?”

What she should do is just remove this stranger’s warm hand from her waist and leave the situation altogether.

But, his hand is warm, he’s handsome and it’s felt like ages since she’s had fun like this before.

“Not really.” she gives a defeated sigh, “I felt uncomfortable if anything.”

“Uncomfortable.” the stranger nods at that and then turns to the now gaping red-haired stranger, “You made my wife fucking uncomfortable.”

“I swear I didn’t mean to..I’m so sorry, Ma’am.”

“I bet you are.” she doesn’t hold back on the bitchiness.

“Now why don’t you take your Cheeto-dyed pubic hair beard, Costco purchased Khaki shorts and get on the next flight back to wherever the fuck you came for before I stop being so goddamn nice.”

And the bastard stumbles over his feet trying to get out of the bar and it’s the funniest thing Amy’s seen all day.

After he’s gone for a good minute or two, she finally turns to acknowledge the stranger who kinda saved her ass from a potential rapist and can’t help but feel a bit weak at the knees when he looks her in the eyes.

“Thanks, for...that.” she offers, “You genuinely didn’t have to do that, I could’ve handled that myself.”

The handsome stranger smirks annoyingly at that, taking the chance to let his eyes gloss over her body without a trace of shame.

“I have no doubts about that.” he smirks at her, “I just figured it would be fun, step in and be an ally to a hot woman when she needs it most.”

And god help her, she laughs at that.

“Well, that’s kind of you to say.” she gives a nod of her head, “I guess I’ll...I’ll see you later.” she goes to turn on her heel and make her way back to her room.

If she has any sense left in her brain, she’ll do what’s right and return to her room, leave Bill a message to wake up to and just use the rest of the day analyzing her target.

But, she stops a little too quickly when the handsome stranger calls for attention, inviting her for a drink.

“Let me get you a drink.” he offers all teeth and smooth charm, “It’s the least I can do after you had to endure all of that.”

“Thanks but I really should head back to my room...I have….I have an important phone call to make.” she feigns innocence.

“What’s it for? Work?” he takes a seat on the barstool, his eyes not bothering to leave her.

More like reminding herself that she has a fiancé back home.

“Something along those lines.” she offers a shoulder shrug, keeping herself reserved.

“Well, why don’t you go make that phone call and come back here, I can get them to start a drink for you.”

“So you can roofie my drink?” she sees right through the sweet-talking bullshit, “Hard no.”

“What? You think I would get some horny clown who was probably planning on drugging you to leave you alone to drug you myself?”

She nods.

“I’d never do that.” he shakes his head, not backing down.

“I don’t know you so that claim you’re making for yourself is about as thin as a piece of paper.” she rolls her eyes, making quick work of closing her clutch after she locates her phone.

“Well then stick around, let me buy you a drink so you can see them make it and I’ll tell you a little about myself.”

God, this asshole just didn’t know when to quit.

As she scrolls through her phone, there’s about twelve missed class and thirty-one angry text messages from none other than Bill.

Any sane and logical woman who’s supposedly engaged to the man she loves would wrap up this conversation as quickly as possible, make her way back to her room and call her fiancé to let him know just how much she loves him.

But, she’s one of the top Secret Agents of a highly classified Espionage Division in the Country...she’s far from sane and logical as far as she’s concerned.

So, she shoves her phone back into her clutch and joins the stranger for a drink.

And it’s one of the best ideas she’s made the whole damn trip.

* * *

_ Present _

Dan wakes up at 6:30 in the morning every day.

It's not only because he's an early riser.

It's also because he has an extensive morning routine to go through each day to ensure that he's at the top of his A-Game every day.

He wakes up, brushes his teeth, goes for an early morning jog around his suburban neighborhood, makes himself a protein shake, eats a hearty breakfast that can range from an Egg White Scramble to a bowl of Oatmeal, hops into the shower, picks his outfit out for the day, greets Amy when she finally wakes up and makes his way out of the door by 7:45 every day.

Since Amy's been in a mood for the past few months and she fucking shrinks every time he tries to initiate sex, he all but gives up on trying to get her into their shower for an early morning fuck and instead uses the ten minutes of showering to get his mind right for work.

And it's been like this for a while. 

So instead of his shower time being used for something like showering and fucking, it's been reduced to jerking off and showering and it just might be the most disappointing transformation in his entire life.

But, it's better than nothing so, there's that.

He must be into it more than he has in a while because his heart almost falls out of his ass when Amy hops into the shower as if it's something she does every day and he's not furiously jerking off against the cold, wet shower tiles.

"For fuck's sake-"

"Fucking rela-_oh my god."_ Amy's eyes widen at him after she turns around and finally sees what he's doing past the steam and hot water, "What the fuck are you doing?" 

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" he's too focused and fired up to even explain-with his dick in his hand and other hand grasping the tile, she should already know what he's doing. 

"Well can you get finish up? I need to shower." she pours a generous amount of soap into her hands and faces the showerhead, her back facing him.

"I'm showering too in case you haven't noticed."

"You don't see me wasting water to help me get off at ass-o'clock." she rubs the soap down her chest and the sides of her naked, curvy body, the irritation high in her voice.

He focuses on his pumping; he's so close.

"I'm not moving." he manages to grit out.

"Neither am I." Amy throws her hair over her shoulders, continuing to rub body wash all over her body without a care in the world.

Fuck it. 

So, they just turn towards their respective walls, eyes away from one another and focus on doing what they wish.

And it's easily one of the weirdest mornings Dan's had in a long while. 

He's downstairs after getting into his clothes for the day, making his way to retrieve his keys from the kitchen counter and his backpack from where he left the bag on the floor and he's met with Amy sipping on coffee in the middle of the kitchen.

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?" he tries to start a conversation to diffuse the awkward tension of the house. 

Amy hums to herself and fixes her steel grey pencil skirt with one hand as she texts with the other. 

"Sometime around seven." she shrugs her shoulders, "I can get dinner if you'd like." 

"That'd be nice." he slings his bag over his shoulder, "Just get me my regular from the Deli place."

"I'm not going towards that side of town?"

Jesus.

"Your office is a good fifteen-minute drive to the Deli? It's not like it'll be closed by the time you get there."

"I'm not going to uproot my entire work schedule to get you a sandwich you've already had before, Dan." she stops texting and gives him a groan. 

"You just offered to pick up dinner and I told you what I wanted." Dan reminds her.

"Instead of worrying about what you want, why don't you wonder about what I want." Amy rolls her eyes at him like it all makes perfect sense and her exploding at him at 7:50 in the morning makes perfect sense.

The unfortunate thing is that it doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

And it's so fucking annoying because nothing makes sense anymore.

He and Amy haven't had sex in a good two weeks, she's snappy with him 24/7, they have a regular seat at her family's Sunday Dinners and they're just not in sync like they once were.

Instead of having the mind-blowing sex they once had, they've settled for half-assed quickies whenever they were bored.

Instead of ignoring any family-related affairs, they were now frequent visitors at Amy's parent's house during Sunday Dinners.

And they argue over everything.

Quite literally _everything._

"Fuck it." Dan all but gives up on trying to satisfy his lovely wife and her needs, "Get whatever you want. I'll grab my own dinner."

"Perfect." Amy sneers behind him, watching as he exits the kitchen and heads for the garage door, "Have a nice day, _hon." _

_"Likewise, babe." _he rolls his eyes in return, throwing open the garage door and immediately throwing himself and his items into his car.

He's one of the best Contract Killers in the country. 

He's killed over 75 of the world's top scumbags and criminals just for his job and the fact that his fucking marriage is proving to be more difficult than all of that is extremely telling.

That's saying a lot for him. 

He's good at his job and everyone at his agency fucking knows it. As far as he's concerned, he's the main reason why the lights are still on in the goddamn office and no one can tell him otherwise. 

And even though he's successfully kept that part of his life hidden from Amy their entire relationship doesn't mean he regrets not telling her in the first place.

Amy loses her shit whenever he accidentally leaves out one of his coffee mugs on a table, he doesn't even want to imagine her fucking reaction when she finds out what it is he does for a living. 

By the time he arrives at the office, he's already sentenced to go visit Tom's office by the office's new (and seriously sexy) brunette temp, Eloise.

(And from the morning he's had, she picked the perfect day to wear an impossibly tight ravishing red dress.)

"Sir? You wanted to see me." he peeks his head into Tom's office.

The older man looks up from the file he's reviewing and beckons a hand towards Dan.

"Dan. Come in." he looks at Dan for a brief moment and returns to peering over the file.

He takes a seat in the chair positioned right in front of his wooden desk and takes a minute to wait for Tom to finally address him.

"How are you doing, Dan?" 

God, he hates small talk.

"I'm cool I guess." he takes a look at his watch, trying to distract himself from this conversation.

Regardless of Tom being Dan's boss, he still doesn't like sharing anecdotes about his life. 

If anyone wants to know about how his life is going, they can head to his Instagram where he'll post a photo every other week to ensure that his exterior is far from suspicious and he plays the role of a highly decorated DC Media Consultant and a loving husband to his beautiful, brilliant and blonde wife. 

Anything else was for him and his eyes only.

"How's Amy?"

Bitchier than ever.

"She's fine." he feigns, not offering much.

Tom finally looks away from the file and places it in front of Dan on the desk.

"How would she feel about you leaving this week?"

"She'd probably enjoy it, Sir." he shrugs his shoulders, following along, "She's quite understanding of my schedule." 

Tom's eyebrows raise at that suspiciously. 

"She knows your schedule?" 

"She thinks she knows my schedule. I tell her the dates and times of our _'political'_ events so she doesn't find out about any of our actual missions." 

Tom stands to his feet and nods at that, inching over to his liquor cabinet. 

"Come up with a political event of some sort to distract her for this week." he pours himself a glass of Bourbon, "I need you on this assignment." 

Finally. Something entertaining.

"What's the assignment?" he leans forward to flip open the folder and begin reviewing what's inside.

Tom takes a sip and clears his throat.

"The FBI's most-wanted list needs to somehow disappear and President Hughes wants it to be done as discreetly and quickly as possible."

And Dan finally gets it.

"How many people?"

_"Ten."_ Tom begins to pace around the room, "Six men and four women, at least four of them are out of the country so you'll need to map out their coordinates to try and kill four birds with two stones." 

Dan nods at that excitedly; he loves a challenge.

He's already thinking of what kind of gun he'll use.

"And when do you need this done?" 

"As soon as possible. If I could, I'd have you leave tonight but, I figure you'll need a few days to research the list and figure out a strategy."

That's cute, Dan doesn't do strategy, he kills.

"I will get to it." Dan shuts the folder and extends his hand out to shake Tom's, "I won't disappoint you, Sir."

"I expect nothing less" Tom gives him a pointed look and gives a subtle head nod when they stop shaking hands, "And for the sake of budgeting, let's keep the flashiness and tricks to a minimum."

God. Put him in a fucking box so more why don't you?

"I will..._take_ that into account, Sir." he gives a fake smile.

This is what he does best and _everyone_ knows it.

"Oh and Dan?" he hears Tom's voice call from behind as he nears the door to go to his office.

"Yes, Sir." he turns around for what seems like the millionth time.

"Let's keep your interactions with Eloise to an appropriate minimum. We don't need another Diana situation, do we?"

Fucking asshole.

"Of course, Sir." he gives his fakest smile of agreement and finally escapes his hellhole of an office to get to work.

Brave of Tom to assume he's even considering fucking Eloise at a moment like this. 

He just got handed the fucking FBI's most wanted list as his newest challenge, fucking anyone is the least of his worries right now.

Maybe after the job is done, he'll return to the idea though.

* * *

“I think Dan is cheating on me.” Amy slams the door of Sue’s office shut with a harsh slam, forcing the walls to shake slightly.

“And this is my business because..?”

“It’s your business because I’m making it your business.” Amy rounds Sue’s desk and faces her head on, her arms folding over her chest defiantly, “I need you to find some things out for me.”

Sue keeps her hazel eyes transfixed on the double Mac monitors in front of her, not bothering to look up for a single second. 

“Amy. I’m one of the top Ethical Hackers in the world, not a marriage counselor. If you feel as though your husband is cheating on you, schedule an appointment with a counselor or something.” 

She rolls her eyes at that.

With that suggestion, it’s clear that Sue must’ve forgotten who Amy is married to. 

If politely demanding for Dan to pick up his dirty towels off the floor lands them into the middle of a world war type argument then there’s no way in hell that Amy is even considering suggesting that to him.

“I’m not asking for marriage advice, I’m asking for you to do a favor for me.”

“And I’m asking you to go to someone who cares, like a marriage counselor or to Dan himself. Did you even ask him about this?”

She snorts at that, “Of course not, I’m not an idiot.”.

She looks up from her computer to give her a lookup and down.

“I can’t go to Dan because he’ll shit out some bullshit excuse about how my suspicion is me just being ‘neurotic’ or ‘shrill’ when I know that I’m not just imagining things. I know that he’s doing something he shouldn’t be doing.”

“And you know this because?”

“I know him.” Amy rolls her eyes, “Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t even acknowledge I exist.” 

“Are you guys having sex?” Sue doesn’t bother looking up.

Her mind goes to their shower situation this morning.

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“You can’t expect men to listen if you don’t give them a reason to, I expect you of all people should know.” 

She groans at that as she drops a free chair in front of Sue’s desk. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means exactly what you’re afraid of it meaning,” Sue smirks to herself, “Here’s the file on McCarthy you needed, by the way.”

She retrieves the folder Sue slides to her from the desk and sighs to herself heavily.

“Not even a minute ago you told me that you weren’t my marriage counselor and now you’re telling me the way to solve all of my marital problems is through sex.” Amy opens up the file and begins to skim through it. 

There’s a knock on the door behind them. 

“Monday Meeting starting in five.” Michelle pokes her head in, “...do either of you have the file on McCarthy?”

Amy holds up the file and stands from her seat, inching towards Michelle and extending the folder out to her. 

“You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you.” Sue shrugs her shoulders, “and it’s a popular consensus around the office.” 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I asked for-” she freezes in place, “Wait, _what?_ What’s a popular consensus?”

She looks over at Sue who looks up to Michelle and the two exchange a knowing look. 

“About the_ thing?_” Michelle gives an awkward sigh.

Sue nods in agreement, “_That_ thing.”

“What thing?” Amy can’t help but feel like a preschooler in the middle of an extremely unfair round of Monkey in the Middle and she’s playing with a pair of overly tall middle schoolers.

Sue breezes past Amy and turns off the lights of the office and joins Michelle in the hallway, leaving Amy behind the two of them.

“Michelle.” Sue addresses their blonde colleague head-on, “Do you think Amy needs to have sex?” 

_“Absolutely._” Michelle doesn’t even hesitate as they begin walking down the hallway to the conference room, “No offense, Ame.” 

“Jesus, are you two talking about my sex life behind my back?” 

“Only because we’ve known you for a while and we know what you’re like when you’ve been having sex.” Michelle offers but Amy’s too embarrassed to give a damn.

It’s no secret that she and Dan we’re going through a rough patch or really year and it doesn’t help that she works at fucking Espionage agency and she’s surrounded by some of the world’s best spies so everyone’s bound to know.  
  
“Even though I shouldn’t be asking this from you two, I have to. Would you mind keeping my fucking sex life and marriage out of your conversations? I’d fucking appreciate it.”

They make their way into the conference room, finding their regular seats around the round, glass table. 

“Fine.” Michelle agrees with no troubles. 

“Don’t ask for my opinion if you don’t want it then, Amy.” Sue shrugs like it makes all of the sense in the world, “As your friend if it’s clear that you need to get the living daylights fucked into you then I’ll tell you.” 

“I don’t need anything fucked into or out of me, thank you very much.” she folds her arms over her chest crossed, completely done with this entire conversation.

“I’d say otherwise,” Sue mumbles underneath her breath.

And she doesn’t know who she wants to kill more. 

Dan, Sue, and Michelle or herself.

And right about now, all candidates were very appetizing.

* * *

“You called me?” Amy pokes her head into Selina’s office after their briefing meeting.

Selina looks up from a folder, her eyebrows furrowing low on her forehead. 

“Yeah, Ame. Come in.” she returns her eyes to the folder.

It’s not unusual for Selina to call for Amy while she’s in the midst of her lunch break. Even though she respected Selina and Selina respected her, she still had demanded to see whoever she wanted whenever she wanted.

And unfortunately, she wanted to see Amy before her lunch salad arrived.

She sits in the seat set right in front of Selina’s sharp glass desk and watches as the older, brunette woman reads to herself quietly. 

And it’s awkwardly silent.

She tries to busy herself with looking around the room and distracting herself with what’s there but there’s nothing that captivates her attention.

The office is all sleek, modern and filled with glass furniture and topped off with luxurious accessories that range from diamond paperweights to designer lampshades in pastel colors. 

“Uh, ma’am.”

Selina holds up a finger.

“You were quiet during the meeting today.” 

She was in a shitty mood. 

“I didn’t...I was keeping to myself, absorbing information.” Amy feigns, managing to roll her eyes since Selina’s not looking in her direction and won’t see her do it. 

_“Absorbing?”_ Selina’s eyes flash dangerously at her as her movements go still, “What are ya' a fuckin’ sponge?” 

Jesus, not this.

“Ma’am, pardon me for being blunt but was there anything you needed from me specifically? I was planning on going on my lunch break today since I haven’t been able to for the past few da-”

“What’s your body count, Ame?” 

“I’m sorry?” she blinks in response.

“Don’t play coy with me, we’ve all killed a fucker or two. Remind me of your kill count.” Selina slides on her glasses and closes the folder. 

She knows her number and even though she keeps it to herself, she tries her best to not share it with too many people. 

First of all, because murder is illegal, her job is top-secret and highly classified and she just doesn’t share that information off the fly.

She hesitates for a moment, taking a chance to take a deep breath.

“About ten..._maybe_ twelve if you count me shooting the wheels of that four-wheeler in Azerbaijan.”

“How would you feel about adding ten more to the list?” 

“Ten more people?” 

“To your kill list, yes.” Selina crosses her legs underneath the table, “You wouldn’t be receiving an increase in pay of course.” 

“I mean...I’m sure if I had some time I could pull it off but, I would need to sit down and figure out who it is I’m going after.” 

“That’s not what I’m looking for.” Selina holds a hand up as she shakes her head.

“Is there something specific you’re looking for?” 

“The old Amy Brookheimer.” Selina all but gives up on being sincere and cuts to the chase, “I need you to find the old Amy Brookheimer and tell her to march her ass into this office and handle this case for me.”

And it doesn’t take much for Amy to realize what she’s saying to her. 

“You don’t think I can pull off the job.” it all starts to make sense to her. 

Selina stands to her feet and crosses over to her alcohol cabinet, grabbing a bottle of Brandy and pouring herself a glass of the dark liquor.

“I need the Amy Brookheimer that had serial killers on their knees because their hard-ons for her were so fucking painful that they couldn’t bear it before she fucking poisoned them or shot them in their dicks.” Selina addresses her head-on.

Just hearing her past endeavors makes her cringe.

She’s prided herself that she’s a lot cleaner with her jobs and duties nowadays than she once was ages ago. She’s been doing this for almost fifteen years and has evolved for the better over time. 

She’s good and she knows that she is but, back then, when she was younger and new to the game, she didn’t realize it yet so, she had to use her burgeoning sexuality as her main weapon. 

And while it did work, and helped her accomplish the job, she just knows that she doesn’t need to do that anymore and there’s nothing wrong with that.

“Ma’am. While I appreciate the feedback, I just don’t think it’ll be appropriate of me to return to my...ways.” 

Selina is taken aback at her suggestion as if Amy suggested she become a nun and leave the agency once and for all.

“Jesus, you’re not knocked up, are you? I swear I should’ve gotten you fixed when you first walked in here.”

_“No.”_ she insists strongly, “God no.” 

“What? One of your tits bigger than the other?” 

_“No.”_

“That husband of yours find out about this job?”

“No.” she rolls her eyes, “He wouldn’t know what I did for a living even if it had a name tag on and introduced itself to him.” 

Selina shrugs her shoulders and looks at her like she’s batshit crazy.

“Then what’s your problem?” Selina puts her hand on her hip, “I’m not asking you to let any of these fuckers to shove their acidic cum up your cunt by any means.” 

God, she was starving. 

“I realize that, ma’am.” Amy sighs, “And yes, I appreciate you not pressuring me into any of that, I do know that I’m a good shot..and I can do this without any of the flips and tricks. All I need is time and my brain.” 

“That’s not good enough.” Selina shuts her down immediately, “That’s not good enough and I know that you know it.” 

Usually, any meeting with Selina is quite frustrating. 

Even though her ideas and plans are some of the best in the business, her execution can be quite off and it leaves Amy and the entire team scrambling around to pick up the pieces. 

They could sit here and go back and forth all day on whether or not Amy’s clean tactics are more useful than she thinks all day and while Amy knows she’s right, Selina would argue her into the ground that she certainly isn’t.

“Who are you assigning me to?”

A thick, manilla folder drops in front of her on Selina’s desk and she feels her heart pause.

“The remaining ten people on the FBI’s top wanted.” she puts a hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side, “Our dear President Hughes is feeling...pressure from the families of the victims to get something done about these fuckers running free and he’s called us to put an end to it.” 

“Won’t they get suspicious about all ten of the people on the FBI’s most-wanted list just magically dying at the same time?” she stares at the folder like it’s the most intimidating thing in the world and in a weird way, it kinda is.

"Not unless you give them a reason to be suspicious." Selina juts her hip out, letting her hand rest on the belt of her leather pencil skirt, "Now are you up to the job or do I have to call in another blonde to pull it off?"

She can do this.

Not the way Selina wants her too with all of the sex appeal and mind games but, she can pull this off...and she can pull it off well contrary to her beliefs.

"I'm on it, Ma'am." she stands to her feet and gives Selina a nod, "I'll give this case my full, undivided attention." 

"Great." Selina claps her hands together and slides into the seat of her office chair, "And make sure you hit up the wardrobe department, I'm not having you go out into the battlefield with a fucking cotton pencil skirt like the world's least fuckable librarian." 

Leave it to Selina to stomp on her one last time the minute she needed her the most. 

Say what you want about Amy but she gets shit done. Pencil skirts or not.

And nobody can take that away from her. 

Not even Selina. 

* * *

She’s been working non-stop for a good four hours.

This isn’t unusual for her, whenever she’s assigned to a new client she likes to take the time to analyze them.

Figure out their routine, get an idea of who they are on paper, what crimes they’ve committed and what they’re capable of doing in the future.

Most people didn’t have this apart of their routine but it was a top priority for her. 

It let her know the in’s and out’s of her target and that’s the way she liked it. Knowing everything so there’s no element of surprise when it was time to get the job done.

She must be fully invested in her research because she doesn’t even hear the badgering knocks on her office door and is surprised as hell when Michelle enters the room, the headphones practically falling off of Amy’s head.

“What the hell? What’s wrong.” Amy scrambles to fix her desk.

“We have a problem.” Michelle closes the door behind her, keeping her hand on the doorknob. 

“Jesus, what now? I can only handle this case because it has six fucking people. If there’s a part two to the FBI’s most-wanted list do you mind handling it?” 

“No, no.” Michelle makes her way to the large window and presses a few buttons on the control panel-making the window one-way glass, “By we I mean you.” 

After she’s done with the panel, she releases the window blinds and points at the window.

“Look.”

When she stands to her feet to get a good look at what it is Michelle’s freaking out and when she sees it, she kinda doesn’t blame her. 

“What the fuck is Bill doing here?” she goes slack, “Seriously. What is he doing here?” 

“No idea.” Michelle folds her arms over her chest as they watch him make his way down the master hallway with Selina and Gary trailing behind the two of them, “Sue saw him and called me and I came here to tell you.”

“Why didn’t Sue bother to tell me?” Amy begins to scramble around her room trying to tidy things together when she realizes that they’re heading straight down the hallway and the only room at the end of her hallway is her office, “I could’ve fucking done something.”  
“Done what? Leave?”

“That doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.” she groans as she throws her Starbucks cup into the trash and takes a look in the mirror and pulls out her ponytail, giving her hair a slight tousle, “Oh my god. What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“It looks like he has a meeting with Selina.” Michelle starts but Amy closes all of the files on her desk and turns to Michelle.   
  
“You need to hide in my bathroom.” Amy points at her.

“What?”

She looks over Michelle’s shoulder and sees Bill and Selina only a few steps away from her door.

“My bathroom. Hide. Now.” Amy pushes Michelle towards the bathroom.

By the time Michelle gets into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her, the door swings open revealing both Bill and Selina in all of their glory.

“Ame! Great, you’re available..”

“Ma’am.” she offers a cold smile, not bothering to look at Bill for one moment, “How can I help you?

She hates that the fucker just had to look more handsome than ever. Even though she didn’t love him as he once did, she did always find him extremely attractive and it doesn’t help that when he looks at her, she feels like the only woman in the world once again.

“About the assignment, the one we talked about earlier.” Selina points at the folder on the table, “After some deep thinking and analysis, I decided that it would be better to send you out there with more meat on your bones so, I’m assigning Bill with you.” 

Jesus.

  
A foreign country with her ex-fiancé?

Something about that doesn’t seem to sit well with her. 

“Ma’am...as much as I appreciate your feedback, I don’t know if that would be the smartest move...it would look more suspicious if we both went, I already have a plan concocted and everything.”   
“Right.” Selina eyes her suspiciously, “You also mentioned to me that you just need your hands and brain, right?”

And Bill snorts at that.

“Funny. I remember you being a lot more dirty with your methods,” he smirks at her knowingly.

“I grew up.” she flashes her eyes at him dangerously, giving him a distinct glare.

“That’s what you think.” Bill challenges her. 

“That’s what I know.” she retorts.

“Look, you two.” Selina holds her hands up to interrupt the two of them, “Regardless of whether you two wanna jump on each other’s bones are not, I need those six fuckers dead in an instant or else the Government is gonna be up in my fuckin’ snatch until god knows how long. So, do what you gotta do to get these assholes please.” 

“Ma’am-”

“You leave this Saturday.” Selina points at the two of them, “Now get to work.”

And she’s gone. 

She knows that Bill is good and the unfortunate thing is that he knows it too and he knows damn well that if he accompanies her on this trip, they’ll get amazing results like they used to,

Ages ago, when she was much younger (and didn’t know any better), they did just that.

She’d do the seducing and mind games and he’d step in to handle the grunt work of the assignments.

That’s not to say that she didn’t ever kill anyone on her own (she did it quite often if anything), she just usually had Bill on her side whether he was apart of the mission or not.

“You look good.” he offers shamelessly, leaning against the wall of her office near the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Bill?” 

“What I was assigned to do,” he states like it’s obvious.

“You were assigned to be Selina’s pet so I suggest you get trained by Gary so you have an idea of what to expect.”   
Instead of taking the hint and leaving her alone, he hums to himself and watches as she sits in her office chair, pulling herself closer to her laptop.

She tries her best to get back to her work because there’s no way she’ll kill the entire FBI Most Wanted list without dedicated research and knowing what’ll make each of these people tick.

But it’s hard to focus when Bill is right there, staring her down like she’s his infuriating teenage daughter and she forgot to take out the trash for the tenth time in a row.

“You’re still here.” she doesn’t bother looking up from the computer.

“I work here now.” 

“You of all people should now that an assignment doesn’t equate to an actual job. Selina is only hiring you to upset me.” 

“And it’s working.” he approaches her desk slowly, his eyes staying on her the entire time, “Tell me though, Ames, how’s married life going?”

“Fine.” 

“Just fine? What. Is the great Dan Egan not satisfying you well enough?” 

“I’m very much so satisfied, thank you very much.” she doesn’t miss a beat.

“That tension in your back and shoulders claim otherwise.” he crosses over to her drink cabinet and pours two glasses of scotch and when he’s satisfied with his job, he screws the top back on the bottle, drops one of the glasses in front of Amy and sits in the chair right in front of her desk.

“I’m not drinking that.” she clicks on the first criminal’s file-Early Reynolds.

Bill takes a sip and eyes her suspiciously.

“What? You think I roofied your fucking drink?”

“It’s a possibility.” she scrolls through the file and begins to take notes in her notebook.

“Well, I didn’t.” Bill’s voice is monotone, “You and I both know that I don’t need to put anything in your drink to make us want to fuck one another.”

“Excuse me?” she finally gives in and looks at him like he’s fucking insane, “You do realize that I’m not into you whatsoever.”

"That's what you say now but you and I both know how close you can get with someone while you're on the road, assigned to the same mission, in close corners...."

And that's what she's had enough.

Enough with Dan, enough with Selina and enough with everyone kicking at her and expecting her not to react. 

_"Bill."_ she stands to her feet and challenges him head-on, "I don't know who you think you are and what you've got planned but you can't phase me anymore. You may charm Selina and every other doe-eyed idiot in this office but you can't and won't charm me because I know you and every trick you have up your sleeve. While we're on this mission you will keep your distance and only get involved when I say so, so don't come around here thinking you run shit when you so clearly don't." 

And Bill just smirks at that like the true asshole he is.

"You're adorable when you try to intimidate me, Amy. I almost miss it." Bill leans forward and gives her a slight whisper,_ "Almost."_

_"_Go fuck yourself." she gives a deflated sigh and drops into her office chair, returning to her work once again.

"Ease up on the attitude and we just might." he turns on his heel and heads for the door, "_Actually._..keep the attitude. Our best fucks were whenever you were acting like a raging bitch." 

"Go fuck yourself, Bill." she grits out at him, her body shaking in red hot rage.

And he's gone at that.

When she's finally alone, she throws her pen against the desk and releases a heavy groan.

Is it bad that she still finds him unfortunately attractive still?

Fucking prick. 

Her thoughts are interrupted when Michelle exits the bathroom, her mouth gaping in such shock.

"What the hell was that?" 

"I have no idea." she can't even believe that all of this is happening to her. 

Her marriage is slowly falling apart, her boss is most likely a doubt away from firing her and she's been assigned to work with her ex-fiancé to kill off all on the people on the FBI's most wanted list.

God, she hated her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave a comment and kudos!
> 
> They're both greatly encouraged and highly appreciated!


	2. Don't Do Me Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only Amy wasn't acting like the fucking Queen of the North then maybe he would push away all of the active offers he's received far away but, he can't fucking help it.
> 
> Just because Amy didn't want to sleep with him doesn't mean no other woman doesn't want to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter!
> 
> I'm so grateful and appreciative to all of you who read the first chapter and showed it so much support! I cannot express to you all how much your love and support means to me!
> 
> I'd love to know what you guys' thoughts are about this chapter so please feel free to leave a comment and inbox me on Tumblr letting me know what you thought and any predictions you may have for the next chapter!
> 
> Thanks so much!

> _Don't do me like that_
> 
>   
_Don't do me like that_
> 
>   
_Someday I might need you baby_
> 
>   
_Don't do me like that_
> 
> _-'Don't Do Me Like That' by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers_

* * *

She meets Bill when she’s 24.

She’s 24, he’s 38 and she’s fresh out of Graduate school, interning with Selina Meyer and living in her Mom’s old apartment in Logan Circle with her sister as her roommate, unfortunately.

Talk about a glamorous life.

She meets him when she arrives at Selina’s office for the first day of her internship and one of the security guards (Plummer) is giving her a tough time by claiming that she doesn’t officially work in the building hence, she’s not allowed to park in the parking lot. 

It frustrates her because one, she knows he’s only doing this because she rejected his pass at flirting with her and two, she had made a conscious effort of getting out of the house an hour early to avoid bumping into morning DC traffic so she could be early for her first day.

She’s trying to explain to the asshole that she fucking works for Selina Meyer and she has every fucking right to park her car in the parking lot. 

(And all she had was a fucking 2005 Toyota Camry-it’s not like it was taking up much space by any means).

Enter Bill.

She hears his deep, rugged voice before she sees him and from the first word he says, she’s instantly intrigued, wondering what stranger could have a voice as handsome as this one.

And when she finally sees his face, she’s surprised at how handsome he is at first glance.

“Do you know who this is?” he points at her. 

The security guard’s eyebrows furrow low on his gigantic forehead, his eyes glossing over Amy’s body in an eerily slow manner.

“No. Should I?”

“This is one of Selina’s top interns in the past five years. Graduated top of her class for both Undergrad and Graduate at both Penn and Denison, recruited and desired by every single political figure in this town and I can assure you that her resume alone gives her full undivided authority to park in any parking space she wishes.”

Plummer looks back at her in response, letting Bill’s words soak in his mind.

“What’s your name?”  
She opens her mouth to respond but Bill cuts her off almost automatically.

“Amy. Her name is Amy Brookheimer and I think that Amy would like an official parking spot in the parking lot. Wouldn’t you, Amy?” he turns to her for assurance.

“Uh...yeah, that..that would be nice.” Amy stutters out, not able to believe what’s going on.

So, Bill orders Plummer to print her out an official parking pass right there and after she’s clipped it onto her badge, they make their way to the elevators.

“I don’t know what to say.” Amy shakes her head in disbelief, “You didn’t have to do that.”

Bill leans forward and presses the elevator button.

“Had I not stepped in, Plummer would’ve made you park you’re car a block out and made you later than you already are.”

“Shit!” it finally dawns on her that she’s late for her first day by a few petty seconds from a security guard, “It was fucking hell getting here as-”

“You’re not late, don’t worry.” Bill consoles her after the door slide open and he steps in.

She looks around and follows him in.

“You just said I’m late.” she furrows her eyebrows at him.

“Selina won’t say anything if you won’t show up with me.” he flips open his Razr, not bothering to look up as he uses his free hand to press a floor button, “No other interns are showing up with members of her team on the first day.”

Amy nods at that, biting on her bottom lip timidly.

As kind as he seems, the last character Amy wants to project on herself is the ‘ambitious slut who sleeps her way to the top’ sort of thing and showing up with an established member of Selina’s team will kinda put that on her whether she likes it or not.

“Look.” Amy fixes her pencil skirt, “I’m sure that you mean well but...the last thing I want to do is make a bad impression on my first day. It took a lot for me to get this internship and I’m not interested in anything els-”

“I should know.” Bill flips his phone shut, “I’m the one that hired you.” 

She looks at him in disbelief.  
“You took Gillman’s Social Movements and Mobilization class during your last Semester to which you were the one and only person to receive an A+ in that class. That alone showed that you would fit in perfectly at this office.”

She chooses not to let it impress her though. She lives in DC, meeting some handsome man who can recite every last credit off of her resume is typical behavior and is often used as a method to hit on women, she’s not an idiot. 

(That’s probably why she got that A+ in Gillman’s class. But he doesn’t need to know that)

She knows what he’s doing. 

“It’s a Poli-Sci course. All Graduate students are required to take it.” she shrugs it off.

“But you weren’t required to get an A+.” he reminds her, I didn’t hire you because you seemed like you’d be a good roll in the fucking sack. I hired you because you were the only person for the job and I knew you’d be able to pull it off with no trouble. Did I make a mistake?”

Shit. Maybe she doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“No. Not at all.” she shakes her head in agreement, “I..appreciate the opportunity.” 

“Stellar.” he nods at her, “You can follow me to Selina’s office. So you can formally introduce yourself.”

“....Okay?” she blinks at him in confusion.

The minute the elevator doors open, he’s practically strutting down the long hallway with Amy (embarrassingly) trailing behind him like a fucking floozy and it’s one of her more embarrassing moments in life. 

People are stopping him every other step, demanding him to sign something, review something and even asking him a question about whatever it is they’re assigned to handle.

Eventually, they turn into an expansive office space with Bill walking in all cool, calm and collected and Amy trotting in like a fucking idiot. 

“Ma’am. This is Amy Brookheimer.” he introduces her to Selina whose standing in front of her bookcase, “The intern I was telling you about.”

Selina looks up from the bookcase, her eyes raking over her.

“You’re Amy Brookheimer?” Selina points at her.   
“Yes, Ma’am.” she nods.

Selina removes her glasses and squints at Amy, resting her arm on the head of a luxurious chair and squinting her eyes at her.

“How old are you?” 

“24.” she informs her, “I just graduated from Denison.” 

Selina nods at that, looking up at Bill for clarification. 

“She’s the only intern I’ve met today.” she puts her free hand on her hip, “Any particular reason behind that?”

“You insisted on not meeting any interns today. You tasked some of the workers to take over the introduction meeting today.” a man with an expensive tea set (who she later learns is Gary) carefully enters the room, approaching Selina. 

“Right.” Selina inhales then looks right back up at Amy.

“Well. You’re certainly one of the more decent looking interns I’ve seen around here.” she gives an approving nod and moves to sit in the wildly expensive chair Amy eyed earlier. 

“...Thank you.” Amy gives a small, unsure smile.

“What is she assigned to do today?” Selina turns to Bill and points directly at Amy.

She turns to Bill and awaits his answer.

“Generally, she’s supposed to be answering phones and running errands for whoever she’s assigned to.”

They both turn to Selina for her answer.

Selina looks at both her and Bill and after some time, she picks up a mug of hot tea and points at Bill.

“I want her assigned to you. Have her do whatever you need her to do for your upcoming mission and make sure she’s up to speed on any and everything you’ve got planned. You need someone smart to help you pull this off and she’ll help you.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Bill nods as he swings open the door and gestures for Amy to follow him out.

She’s so fucking confused. 

“So I don’t work for Selina?” Amy tries her best to keep up with Bill’s long and far footsteps.

“You do.” Bill pauses to look over a document, “You’ve just been assigned to me. That’s all.” 

She looks around the expansive office and takes in the high paced atmosphere-interns and workers dressed to the nines, cubicles, and floors lined with some of the most expensive furniture pieces and rugs she's ever seen and glass walls separating the rooms. 

They stop in a private office that seems to be a fusion between sleek and modern furniture and decorations, she frowns at the emptiness. 

"This is your office?" she looks around the room with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope. It's yours." 

She does a double-take.

"Wait, what?"

Bill looks up from the stack of folders set up on the desk centered in the middle of the room.

"You're going to be working very closely under me and you'll need a closed and secured space to do it all in. Unless you have a problem with that?"

"No. No." she shakes her head, "It's just...I wasn't expecting to get an office let alone desk so soon."

Bill offers her a small smile. 

"Trust me when I say we don't just give desks to anyone. Only those who are up to the job." he inches his way towards Amy who still stands underneath the doorframe in shock, "There's a stack of twelve folders on the desk waiting to be reviewed and researched. Have them on my desk, ready to present to me in about an hour."

And he breezes past her, leaving her to marvel at her brand-new office.

This was normal right? 

Getting a well-furnished, private office on the first day of your internship is normal?

It is normal, right?

* * *

"Ma'am. I need to talk to you." Amy calls for Selina as she watches the slender woman move gracefully down the hallway.

Both Selina and Gary turn around, their eyes widening in surprise as they watch Amy barrel down the long hallway; her heels tapping in a crossed rhythm against the marble flooring.

_"Ame!"_ Selina looks Amy up and down with her public smile; the one she uses when she's on the arm of her husband, greeting potential donors and politicians of all kinds, "What can I do 'ya for?" 

When she finally arrives at Selina, she's sure she looks a mess but she doesn't even care at this point. 

Selina has spent a majority of the past few years tearing down Amy's appearance and wardrobe that she doesn't even care about any potential insult that'll come her way.

"You hired Bill." she starts.

Selina gives a knowing look, "I sure did." 

"For _my _assignment." Amy keeps her voice gentle, careful of stepping on Selina's Louis Vitton heel.

"Yep."

"Amy's very upset.." Gary notifies Selina via a not-so-subtle whisper.

_"Oh!"_ Selina feigns innocence, "I'm sorry. Amy, are you upset about something?"

She's fucking livid. 

Selina _knows _that she and Bill are very much so over. 

She knows that the end of their relationship was just as fucked-up and explicit as the beginning of it.

So why on fucking earth would she go this far to embarrass her?

"I'm very fuck-_Ma'am..." _Amy gets a hold of herself and takes a deep breath, "Why would you put _Bill_ of all people on this assignment when you already assigned it to me."

"Because I wanted to." Selina states like it's obvious, "Is that a good enough reason for you or do you need me to draw you one with my collection of colored fuckin' pencils?"

Amy leans back on her heels and thinks for a second; she needs a moment to think.

"I'm not saying that, Ma'am." Amy gives a softer tone, "Bill hasn't worked here in almost seven years and you instantly put him on a high stake assignment. I just need to know why."

"It's because she says so." Gary chimes in.

"Yeah." Selina points a thumb behind her, directed to Gary, "It's because I fuckin' said so."

Amy bites back a groan at that.

"Your personal and sexually frustrated feelings about him aside, Bill is one of the best agents in this country, you know it and I know it. There's no way I'm sending you to Fuck-Knows-Nebraska for some Triple-Dick fuck brain to beat you at your best game." Selina removes her glasses and addresses her on, "So suck it up and go to the wardrobe room so you can pull this mission off the correct way." 

Gary claps his hands, "I'm thinking we can get you into that leather swimsuit you used on your Turks and Caicos mission. You're boobs looked-"

_"Appropriate?"_ the word rolls off of Amy's tongue before she can help it.

Selina pauses and looks her up and down, waving a finger around her in the air. 

"Please don't tell me you're planning on capturing six of the men on the FBI's most-wanted list dressed like Bette Dais in 'Storm Center'." Selina rolls her eyes as Gary snickers behind her like a small child.

Amy looks down at her clothes. 

Today she opted for a navy pencil skirt and eggshell white chiffon blouse with a pair of silver heels.

The outfit wasn't extravagant by any means but, it did get Dan to look at her for a second and a half longer than usual so...she knew she didn't look awful by any means.

Just because she wasn't wearing fishnets, crazy-high stilettos or impossibly tight dresses doesn't mean that she's 'ugly' or an awful dresser by any means.

"Ma'am. I don't think my outfits will dictate whether or not the bullet will go through his leg or not."

"Well, if you would loosen up and show the girls then we won't have to give you a gun to test that hypothesis now will we?" 

And with that, she's back to strutting down the hallway.

"I still have 85% of your wardrobe saved in a special locker in case you were wondering." Gary pedals back a few steps from Selina to inform her, "Out of all the women here, including Selina, you had some of the best clothes believe it or not."

_"Thanks."_ Amy rubs her temples; feeling a headache coming on.

"Seriously. I ran a price scan on that teal Gucci bikini you have and it costs almost one thous-"

"Gary!" Selina's voice jolts them both to attention.

And soon, Gary is darting down the hallway with Selina trailing directly behind.

And it's only ten in the fucking morning.

Fucking hell, she hates everything.

* * *

"Where's the clear Santoku knife at?" Dan removes his science goggles and looks over at Kent who enters the room with a stash of folders underneath his arms. 

_"San-to-ku,_ Dan." Kent gives a stern breakdown of the word, "And the Santoku knife is not available for usage on your upcoming assignment per Mr. James' orders. He was precise on his orders of you staying within a particular budget on this mission and you using a Santoku knife does not fit in within that particular vision."

First Amy refuses to have sex with him consistently and now he's not able to use his favorite weapons to kill somebody.

Could he have nothing exciting in his life anymore?

"It's a fucking knife, Kent, not a goddamn flame thrower." Dan rolls his eyes.

"I'm well aware of the difference between the two." Kent follows him around the long-stretched tool table, "I am the one who reviews your purchase orders."

"I'm fully aware." Dan releases a groan of irritation, "Becuase if you weren't I'd have my fucking weapons by now." he stops in front of a rack of knives of all shapes and sizes.

"Tom is concerned that you rely too much on weaponry. He feels as though by limiting your cost of weapons per assignment then you'll have more immaculate successes and save us money." 

"All of this is coming from the same man who has a fucking Bourbon vending machine _outside _of his office." Dan traces his fingers on the plastic cover of the clear Butcher's knife.

He picks it up.

"I'll have you know that particular instrument of choice was not purchased based off of my calling-"

"Is there a point to all of this or are you just hear to bother me? I can't plot out a foolproof murder spree if you're in here acting like a goddamn Dictionary." Dan places the knife on the wooden table, turning to grab ahold of the matte black D2 folding knife.

Kent sighs and drops the folders on the table directly next to the weapons Dan picked out earlier.

"Since this decade is coming to a close, it was my obligation to assess the damage costs each of our workers have constructed over the years and Tom is not happy with your costs."

He snorts at that, "And this is different because?"

"He feels as though you've dumped an overwhelming amount of budgeting into unnecessary weapons and tools."

"For fuck's sake." he drops the remaining knives on the desk, reaching out to yank the folder towards him to find out for himself what Kent is rambling about. 

He opens the folder and is met with a series of colorful pie charts, bar charts, and line graphs and he's just as confused looking at this goddamn folder as he was listening to Kent. 

_"Translate."_ he drops the folder in front of Kent and slides a pair of working gloves on to begin wiring the knife into an electric one.

Kent sighs and flips open the folder, stroking his chin.

"On hotels alone, you've spent over eighty-seven thousand dollars over budget in just six years on your missions." 

"You try staying in the back balls of fucking Sweden and trying not to get fucking poisoned to death." he shrugs it off, reaching out for the box of electrical wires to attach to the knives. 

Dan was known for having impeccable taste, always have and always will.

Why abandon that reputation by staying in some crusty ass Motel 6 when he can clear his mind in a luxurious suite while he's on the other side of the globe?

_"That_ and you've spent over nine hundred dollars over budget on guns alone." Kent reads from the paper, "We have a fully equipped room devoted to weapons, _this _is obsessive." 

"That's because our Dick in Chief insists on spending our company's budget on alcohol and fuckable interns versus updating our weapons and tech cabinet." he plucks a pair of pliers from the center of the desk and goes to pull apart the wires.

"Dan? Here's your package." Eloise steps into the room, her cherry-red bodycon dress appearing int he test tubes and mirrors of the room, her brunette ponytail swinging behind her like a pendulum.

And Jesus fucking Christ, she's beautiful.

Part of him feels guilty for thinking that she's so beautiful but, he can't fucking help it and neither can she. 

She's tall, slender, statuesque and has a pair of the plumpest lips he's seen since meeting Amy all those years ago.

"Thanks." he meets her halfway and grabs the cardboard box from her, "I appreciate it."

"Kent, you've met Eloise right." Dan gives her a sly smile, enjoying her flirtatious reaction to him, "She's our new receptionist." 

"I know _exactly _who Eloise is because I am the individual who hired her." Kent gives him an intense look, "I'm in a book club with her husband." 

Fucking marriage.

"Husband? I had no idea you were married." Dan hides his disappointment by giving her a charming smile and moving around the table to begin his work on the knife. 

Eloise's face flares up in blush and she looks over at Kent with a knowing glance.

"Yeah." she musters out a simple nod, "It's nothing serious...just.._.marriage_ that's all. It's more of a casual thing." 

Ha, must be nice. 

If only Amy wasn't acting like the fucking Queen of the North then maybe he would push away all of the active offers he's received far away but, he can't fucking help it.

Just because Amy didn't want to sleep with him doesn't mean no other woman doesn't want to. 

He'll always love Amy because well, she's Amy. They have a weird, fucked-up relationship that only the two of them can ever understand and tolerate with one another so because of that, he doesn't know if he'll ever leave her or vice versa.

But, if she's going to continue to act like this and have no fun then there's no reason for him to not have any himself.

"Kent." Dan turns towards the man with gritted teeth, "Would you mind if I spoke with Eloise about my assignment arrangements? It's urgent." 

_"Classy,"_ Kent mumbles underneath his breath and leaves the room.

When they're finally alone, Dan removes his goggles and discards them on the table, taking the time to flex his toned biceps for her (They were always his best feature).

"So, how's married life treating you?" Dan begins to input the wire into the knife. 

Eloise swallows thickly at that, running a hand through her hair.

"It's fine." she plays with her fingers nervously, "Mark is always busy so we never really have the chance to spend time together."

And she sounds even hotter than before.

"That's a shame." he gives her a sympathetic look, taking a cue of her fallen face.

"You know you can talk to me if you need anything." Dan offers, "Support and any other things you may need during this...._difficult_ time."

And Eloise gives him the brightest smile he's seen from a woman in ages and it almost (almost) makes his heart pick up speed a little bit and it's sadly the most exciting thing that's happened to him in a long while.

He won't fuck her because she's not Amy and he still feels bad about the whole Diana thing but, if she's willing to...entertain him on a lonely night, he won't stop her.

* * *

"So out of the ten people, how many are in the states?" Amy paces in front of the large projector screen, keeping her tea in her hand.

"Six." Sue informs the room from her computer, "Then there's four out of the country." 

"Which countries?" Bill strokes his chin from the chair.

Sue takes a deep breath, "Three in Australia and one in Dubai."

She pauses at that.

_"Three?"_ her eyebrows furrow, "What the hell are they all doing in Australia?" 

"We haven't found out an intention yet but, we do know that two of them aren't natives." Michelle scribbles on the glass whiteboard.

"Again, what are they doing in Australia though?" Bill cuts to the chase.

She picks up the paper with the official list of suspects, she takes a deep breath to herself and allows her mind to rake and register over the names staring at her blankly on the paper. 

Then it clicks.

"They're working together," she speaks before her mind cans top her.

The room blinks at her in confusion in uncomfortable silence.

"They're in different cities, Amy." Bill shakes his head in disapproval at her.

She sighs and outs a free hand on her hip, "That doesn't mean they're not working together." 

"What makes you say that?" Michelle speaks up, cutting Bill off from another round of judging Amy and her thoughts.

"They're in three different cities for one." she shrugs her shoulders, "It's not fucking impossible. The three in Australia working together seems more legible than any of these other people working together."

"You don't have to be in the same country to work together, Amy." Bill chortles to himself, "This isn't a game borrowing sugar from your neighbor, it's business. People will work with whoever they can to get the job done." 

"Because that made sense." she drops the paper on the table and continues pacing as she rolls her eyes in retaliation.

"I take it you believe this false hypothesis of yours to ring true?" Bill stands defiantly, approaching her.

She shrugs her shoulders; not giving in to his intimidation.

"Why should I?" 

"This is an assignment assigned to _us _by POTUS and I'm not blowing our time, energy and budget by pulling out all of the stops to check and see if you're prediction is right." 

"I never said anything about pulling out all of the stops, I said this because it offers us an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone."

It's not like she's a fucking amateur, she's fucking seasoned at shit like this.

Plus, it's common fucking logic.

No three serial killers live within walking distance of one another and _not_ work together to avoid getting caught.

"Michelle." Amy decides to try him since he's so hell-bent on giving her a challenge, "What three cities are they located in?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Michelle scroll through the table closest to her and she hums to herself as the room watches her. 

"Two located in Kingaroy and one located in Brisbane. The individual with the least amount of kills in located in Brisbane." Michelle informs the room as Sue begins to tap away on her keyboard.

Amy nods at that, tilting her head to the side at Bill.

"The drive from Kingaroy to Brisbane is 2 hours and 48 minutes exactly. It's not a stretch." 

"And with a helicopter, we can make it under an hour." Amy straightens out her posture, "Any other reasons you're too embarrassed this plan might work out?"

And that's how she knows he's stumped him.

She knows that the one thing Bill hates more than anything in the world is being proven wrong and especially being proven wrong by a woman. 

So, she absorbs the moment and enjoys every second of the look of his disdain on his features.

He knows that she's right and there's no better feeling than it.

"Where are we at, bozos?" the door swings open, revealing Selina whose dressed in a red wrap dress and struts in a cream-colored pair of Steve Madden stilettos, "Come up with anything so far?" 

"Yes, Ma'am." Amy turns away from Bill to turn her attention to Selina, "We found out th-"

"Three of the residents on the lists are located in Australia within a respectable distance of one another. Two in Kingaroy and one in Brisbane. It's clear that the three of these people are all working together to avoid getting caught so, I believe it will be ideal to set up camp in Brisbane, watch out for the two located in Kingaroy, handle the one in Brisbane and directly after, wait for A and B's reactions to the _untimely _death and go from there." 

Motherfucker. 

She forgot the Bill had a hard-on for taking responsibility for plans that he did not construct whatsoever. 

"What three are in Australia?" Selina's brow furrows at the two of them.

Bill (who of course has no idea of who is residing in Australia) turns to Amy for clarification even though he knows damn well she has no idea either.

Amy takes a deep breath, "I don't recall."

Selina's eyes go wide at that.

"You don't recall?"

"No, Ma'am." she sighs, "This is the first time I've heard that there actually in Australia." 

Selina leans back in the office chair and points a finger at her.

"I'm sorry? Is this not interesting enough of a topic for you?"

"No, Ma'am." her voice is small and meek.

"Are you thinking about your declining marriage and how that husband of yours prefers to fuck everyone else but you?"

She swallows thickly at that.

_"....No_, Ma'am." she shakes her head defiantly, refusing to let her emotions show. 

"Then why can you not tell me what three Australian cities three of the residents on the FBI's most-wanted list are located?" Selina looks around the room with a mocking look, "I mean, it's not fucking rocket science, Amy." 

And this is what makes work so fucking tough.

The constant abuse, the jarring insults about her life and apperance consistently and the sense of walking on eggshells was her daily routine for the past few years and it's fucking exhausting. 

Sure, everyone hates their job in a way but she despises hers' at an impossibly high cellular level,

"I'm sorry." she accepts it and just wishes to move on from this and exit the room as quickly as possible, "I'll..do my research more thoroughly."

Selina stands to her feet and sighs.

"Just think, if you were still playing 'Daddy's Little Kitten' to Bill and dressing like a high-end Anna Nicole Smith then maybe, just maybe you would still be good at your job." she breezes past both she and Bill and makes her way over to the front door, watching as the guard opens it from the outside of the door for her, "Bill. I want full coverage of your plan on my desk in thirty." 

"Yes, Ma'am." Bill gives a smile that's so snobbish and infuriating it makes Amy red with hate all over.

When she's finally out of the room and Amy feels everyone's eyes on her, she feels a sob crawling up her throat.

"I'll be back." she throws over her shoulder, "Don't wait up."

She makes her way down the long hallway of the building and straight into her office where she locks herself in her bathroom and cries her fucking eyes out.

And it surprisingly makes her feel better.

* * *

After a hard day of upgrading his weapons with his bare hands, Dan decides to get home thirty minutes earlier than usual and throws himself on the couch.

He (shamelessly) heats two slices of pizza from the previous evening and scrolls through Instagram, finding out all he can about Eloise.

After hacking into her file during his lunch break, he found out that she's only 24 and all kinds of fuckable.

Sure. He's totally in the wrong for looking at photos of a sexy and fuckable woman while he's actively married to another woman but, he can't fucking help it.

If his loving wife wasn't putting forth any effort for sex or anything else, then he'll happily go get it elsewhere from someone whose worth his time.

And from the 30 different bikini photos, he can tell that Eloise is definitely worth his time.

The weird thing is, as different as Eloise is from Amy (personality-wise), she vaguely reminds Dan of a young Amy.

Not like an adorable child-like Amy for fuck's sake. 

But more of the Amy he had met all those years ago back in 2012 at the hotel in Hopkins.

The gold hoop earrings, the impossibly tight outfits, the impressive set of tits resting on her chest and her irresistibly plump lips.

God, he misses that Amy so fucking much, he can almost taste it (and her) on his lips.

The old Amy was such a stone-cold fox, he loved every minute of it.

She was funny, confident and horny all the time.

(So horny that one time he had to pull over because the road head she was giving him was fucking amazing and had he kept driving, they would've ended up in a ditch dead.)

Now, she was just cold and distant and just...not herself anymore.

And he's tried.

Harder than he fucking should.

He's offered her vacations, lingerie, and sex only for her to turn him away every chance she got and it infuriated him so fucking much.

That's what they had done and always done. 

Have sex and enjoy each other's company.

Now she can't even stand to be in the same fucking room as him.

He supposes that her distance has something to do with work.

Since she's still working with Selina and Selina is....a bitch so, it makes sense for that being the reasoning behind Amy's attitude change.

He just despises it because Amy's just not fun anymore.

Then the door slams him back to reality and he practically jolts on the couch in surprise, quickly shutting out of the Instagram app before he gets caught.

He readjusts himself on the couch to look as normal as possible to not alarm Amy but it's no use because she just breezes past the couch without offering a single look towards Dan's way.

And it kinda pisses him off, no lie. 

"Hey." he offers.

"Leave me alone," she demands from the stairs strongly, not offering to look back.

He didn't get the chance to look at her because she was moving so damn fast but, he can tell that she's pretty pissed off from the day from the sound of her voice. 

Deciding to do the right thing, he slides his phone in his back pocket and goes to check on her.

He makes his way up the staircase, stopping to pick up her discarded trench coat and makes his way into the master bedroom, craning his head in different directions to look for her. 

"Ames?" he walks around the room aimlessly, "Ames where are you?" 

Silence.

He spends the next few minutes searching high and low of the upstairs section of the house, calling her name and checking behind various doors and pieces of furniture.

He opens his mouth to speak but he's cut off by Amy walking right past him in the direction of the stairs, this time with a large purse hanging off her arm.

"Where are _you_ going?" he can't hide the surprise in his voice.

"I'm leaving." her voice is steely and defiant, not stopping her fast-paced walk for one second.

"But where are you going though?" Dan follows her down the staircase, trying to catch up with her, "You're speaking in cliffhangers, babe." 

She snorts at that.

"Don't fucking call me that." she grits out at him.

God, not this shit again.

Ever since the whole.._.Diana_ incident, Amy's been weird about him calling her anything that isn't her name and it kinda drives him crazy (along with everything else). 

"Amy. Sit down and talk to me." 

"We've gone five years without sitting down and talking Dan, there's no way in hell we're doing it now." 

_"Amy._ Calm down." he tries.

"No!" she finally turns to face him head-on, "Between you and Selina and my fucking parents, I can't breathe without one of you making some sarcastic, venom-filled comment at my expense and I'm fucking _tired_ of it." 

"What are you talking about? I haven't said shit to you."

"Well continue that and don't say shit else to me, Dan. And you're doing such a great job at that so far."

_"Amy."_ he reaches out to pull her back but she practically flails away from him, "Let's...._let's_ just sit down and talk."

"Leave me alone." she throws a hand in the air, "Call Diana, fuck her in here for all I care and leave me the fuck alone."

Ah, so she was still pissed about the Diana situation.

Figures.

"Amy." he tries one more time.

His attempt is unsuccessful since it finds him being pushed backward and their front door slamming right in front of his face, leaving him completely alone.

Shit, who pissed her off?

(Besides him of course.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave a comment and kudos!
> 
> They're both greatly encouraged and highly appreciated!


	3. Last Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rom Selina busting her balls to Bill hovering over her to fucking Dan just being… himself, she feels like everyone gets to be mean except for her and it’s so fucking infuriating she doesn’t even know what to do anymore.
> 
> It’s not like she wanted to not be home, all she wanted to do was take a steaming hot bath, guzzle down a full bottle of Red Wine and hopefully pass out before Dan comes home.
> 
> But the moment she pulled into her driveway and saw Dan’s car parked and the living room light on, she knew she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t cohabitate in the same space as him while feeling these feelings of pure venom and anger towards him. She just couldn’t fucking do it. 
> 
> So, she went into the house, grabbed her emergency wallet and packed a bag full of clothes and toiletries to last her for a few days. She doesn’t care that Dan was trailing behind her like a lost puppy, trying to get her to stay. 
> 
> Dan is a moth, put a fucking light in front of him and he’ll hover over it, so, it’s not exactly flattering to her that he followed her around the house as she packed like a maniac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter!
> 
> I'm so grateful and appreciative to all of you who read the first few chapters and showed it so much support and love! I cannot express to you all how much your love and support means to me!
> 
> Make sure to leave a comment, letting me know what you thought about this chapter here and on Tumblr! I love hearing your thoughts!
> 
> Thanks so much!

> _Just like the engine has a jumper_   
_Feeling down_   
_My head is wondering where to go_   
_And you done got so many different trips you know_   
_My face is wondering where to go_
> 
> _\- Last Train by Allen Toussaint_

* * *

Amy's been gone for almost three hours.

For almost an hour, his finger hovers over the 'call' button under Eloise's name.

He could do it and Amy would never know. 

He could do it and finally _reward _himself for all of this hard work and stress he's put himself through in the past few weeks by having a guaranteed fuck session with someone who would be into it and enjoy herself.

And he wants to.

But it's like 50% of him wants to go ahead and do it while the other 50% doesn't.

Only because hedoesn't want to hurt Amy again.

Call him crazy but the thought of Amy finding out, _again_, that he fucked someone else stirs at the back of his mind every time he has the lingering thought to go out and fuck someone else.

He tries to do other things to distract himself.

He heads to his secret lounge behind his closet and practices his knife throwing (just to make sure his aim is still precise), he walks around the house in hopes for the door to open or the phone to ring, goes through his closet to begin his very _thorough _process of picking out what clothes to bring with him on the mission (because there's no way he'll fight crime without a stellar alias and stylish wardrobe) and he somehow ends up on his couch _not _watching whatever is on his screen and instead, jacking himself off to some half-assed Amateur video on PornHub.

It's all just so unfair.

Why should he, a _very _desirable and good-looking guy, be subjected to this life of no sex and or affection? He just doesn't _get _it.

Had he know that being married would result in _no _sex, he definitely would've settled with him and Amy just exclusively dating. At least then he was getting laid _every _day, attitude or not. 

Nowadays, he's lucky to even get a hello from Amy. 

Talk about a fucking downgrade.

God, he's so pent up and starved that he's practically shaking in his hand by the time he's done and is unfortunately still very, _very _horny.

Hewants to just give in to his senses and call Eloise to rid himself of this painful boner that just won't go away for the life of him.

He decides to go the safer route and gets on her Instagram as fast as he can with one hand to help get himself off and it helps but it isn't that much of a help believe it or not. 

So, he goes into thinking about some of his favorite sexual memories with Amy and it helps get him off.

He thinks about the time they fucked on their kitchen counter, in Amy's childhood bedroom, in his car, in _her _car, in the library during the summer when Amy was hellbent on re-reading the entire Charlotte Turner Smith catalog at the Francis A. Gregory Library in the Non-Fiction section, in the pool and most importantly fucking Amy while she was on the phone with her ex-fiancé.

And it works.

Once he comes to himself and he's left panting from the sweet release of getting off, he stands to his feet and hops into the shower to prepare for bed, his phone long gone.

At this point, it's past midnight and it's clear that Amy has no intention to return home any time soon so, he goes through his entire nighttime shower regimen to prepare for bed and he already feels at ease.

As he lathers his body with his Aventus shower gel, a distinctive ring sounds through the walls and when he exits the shower to see who could be calling him at this late in the hour, he feels himself begin to get hard again underneath his towel as he sees the contact name.

"Dan? It's Eloise."

He looks around the room and covers the microphone as he sighs, feeling stuck.

The smart, responsible thing to do would be to simply hang up the phone, act as nothing happened and call his _actual _wife and figure out where she is.

But, even though he finds himself very, _very _smart he certainly wouldn't go as far as to say that he's _responsible _by any means.

"Eloise? How are you?" he returns to the phone, giving his reflection a mirror a subtle smirk.

"I'm sorry I'm calling you so late...I just, I need someone to talk to because...Mark...he.._.I_ just found out that he slept with my sister! I can't believe he'd do that." 

"Oh _no!"_ he feigns innocence as he inspects his cuticles, thinking of when's the earliest he can get into his manicurist's chair to get his nails checked out, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"We had a big fight and I grabbed my stuff and left. Do you know of any bars open or anything? I'm still new in town." 

Then a devious, bright lightbulb goes off in his head.

"Why don't you come over my way?" he offers.

She takes a deep breath and releases a soft sob, "What?"

"Swing by my place, I have a bar _stocked _with some of the best and smoothest alcohol you'll ever have. Besides, there are no creepy guys here to push up against you while you try to relax."

She laughs at that, earning a small laugh from him.

"Are you sure? I'd hate to intrude."

No.

"Absolutely." he slides a long-sleeved shirt on and smiles at his reflection, "I'll forward you the address." 

She releases another sob and sighs, "Thank you so much, I appreciate this."

_"Anytime._" he begins to think about whether he should keep her in the basement (where there's no photos of him and Amy) or in his hideaway (where there's also no photos of him and Amy).

When he hangs up the phone and goes to pull out a quick yet reasonable outfit, he can't help but wonder at the possibility of Amy returning home and seeing what he's up to while he's gone.

Unfoturenly, it eats him alive for a few minutes, and it has him doubting his choice for a few moments. 

Maybe he should do what's right and just tell her that tonight's a good night and that his...Mom died or something just to assure Eloise _won't _come over tonight.

But, he figures that it might be better to just keep her in the hideout so, if Amy comes back, he has a chance to keep Eloise hidden from her.

* * *

“Get me two Cosmos with Vanilla Vodka.” Amy drops herself into the barstool seat, immediately ordering the waiter and interrupting his conversation with both Michelle and Sue. 

Michelle and Sue’s eyebrows raise at her in confusion, the two of them exchanging a small look.

“.._ Hi.” _Michelle offers, looking around the expansive hotel bar, “How did you get here?”

“I drove.” Amy rolls her eyes like it’s evident, probably because it so clearly is.

“And you have a purse full of clothes because?” Sue gives her a stern look.

“Because I’m not in the mood to divorce my husband right now and I need a fucking drink.” Amy sinks in her chair, her head feeling heavy on her shoulders.

Michelle and Sue exchange yet another look.

“We’ll have some more water and another order of truffle fries, please.” Michelle speaks up, giving a _ ‘Sorry about that! _’ smile to the waiter.

The minute he walks away, Amy is already twelve fries deep in the fry basket, chewing her sorrow away at the shoestring fries much to her disappointment.

“Amy. Need I remind you that tomorrow you have combat training and that your hangover will be much worse considering the fact you’ll be fighting and slinging knives all day tomorrow?”

Amy rolls her eyes and groans.

“I’m a grown fucking woman, Sue. If I wish to scarf down all of the truffle fries in the world tonight and chase them down with a Cosmo then it’s my god damn right to.” she retorts.

She doesn’t mean to be a raging bitch to her only two friends but she feels like she deserves it after the fucking day she’s had.

From Selina busting her balls to Bill hovering over her to fucking Dan just being…_ himself_, she feels like everyone gets to be mean except for her and it’s so fucking infuriating she doesn’t even know what to do anymore.

It’s not like she wanted to not be home, all she wanted to do was take a steaming hot bath, guzzle down a full bottle of Red Wine and hopefully pass out before Dan comes home.

But the moment she pulled into her driveway and saw Dan’s car parked and the living room light on, she knew she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t cohabitate in the same space as him while feeling these feelings of pure venom and anger towards him. She just couldn’t fucking do it. 

So, she went into the house, grabbed her emergency wallet and packed a bag full of clothes and toiletries to last her for a few days. She doesn’t care that Dan was trailing behind her like a lost puppy, trying to get her to stay. 

Dan is a moth, put a fucking light in front of him and he’ll hover over it, so, it’s not exactly flattering to her that he followed her around the house as she packed like a maniac.

“I’m assuming you and Dan fought.” Sue leans back in her seat after giving Amy a once over and returning her attention to her drink.

“I left him,” Amy admits, not bothering to look up from her hands. 

She’s concerned for a moment because no one says anything after that and with two people as reactionary as Michelle and Sue, he was at least due a dramatic gasp or sarcastic comment from one of them.

_“You divorced him?”_ Michelle’s eyes widened in hope.

“Please tell me you signed a Prenup." Sue turns to Amy accusingly, waiting for a response.

Amy looks up to roll her eyes and give a defeated sigh.

“No, no. I didn’t divorce him..._ yet _at least. I just left.” 

“You just left?” Michelle questions.

Amy takes a few more fries, “I packed a bag and left.” 

“Without divorcing him?” Sue raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Yeah..” Amy mumbles out ashamed, keeping her head focused on the fries sitting at the center of the table, “I just...I saw him there and I couldn't stand to be in the same house as him when I feel like this."

"You shouldn't stay there if you feel like that, Amy." Michelle shakes her head, "I mean, do you honestly want this to be your reality for the rest of your life? Staying with a man who cheated on you?"

When she hears her situation broken down to her like that, it always sounds a million times worse.

Like yes, he _cheated _on her, he abandoned her trust, took her heart and shot a fucking bullet through it by sleeping with some fresh-in-college dumbass who shared Amy's blonde hair and blue eyes.

But Jesus Christ, hearing it over and over again just breaks her heart in ways she'll never be able to describe to others.

Even though her mom doesn't know _exactly _about the whole cheating situation, she's been sending her a lump of Couple's Counseling referrals for her and Dan to 'talk things out with a professional' because it seems like there's some 'trouble in paradise' for them. She'd be lying if she said she hasn't thought about it though. For a moment, she did think the idea over; she knows that Dan would've laughed right in her face had she even suggested them talking to someone else about _their _relationship.

There's no way that Dan would willingly sit with someone else and be subjected to an hour-long session of someone thinking that he _isn't _perfect and intensely flawed. 

He'd rather walk down the streets naked and have his dick size shrunk three times then reveal his imperfections to a stranger, let alone his fucking wife. 

"Not really."

"And what's the status on that Pre-Nup? You signed one, right?" Sue finishes the sip of her drink.

"I..."

"You guys _did _sign that Pre-Nup, right?" Michelle leans forward after the waiter drops off a new basket of fries at the center of the table to grab a few.

"I mean, you ca-"

"She didn't sign it." Sue declares and leans back in her seat, putting her hands on her temples, "I told you."

Michelle groans, reaching her hand into her wallet and pulling out a crisp $20 bill and throwing it over to Sue.

"I had faith in her." Michelle declares strongly, "Sorry, Ames."

"You had a fucking bet on whether or not I signed a Pre-Nup?" She looks at both of them in disbelief.

"We were _worried _about you. We just don't want there to be a situation if you split up from Dan and he takes _everything _from you." Michelle reasons, looking to Sue for back-up.

"Not if he does but _when _he does." Sue gives her a matter-of-fact look.

"We just want you to be safe...and protected if something happens." Michelle rolls her eyes at Sue and turns to Amy.

Unless everyone has had a pre-emptive warning from Dan himself about him breaking up with her, she's trying her best to not pay too much mind to Michelle and Sue's worries. On one hand, she's happy to have people who seem to genuinely care (or be interested) in how her life is going. But on the other hand, she's quite aggravated at all of the constant attention and mind that people pay to whatever happens between her and Dan.

Maybe they'll split up, maybe they won't but one thing she knows is that whatever happens, she wants it to be _her _decision.

Not Michelle, Not Selina's, Not Bill's or not even her families, she just wants it to be all _her _decision.

And she thinks that nothing's wrong with that.

She doesn't know when she'll ever be ready to _leave _Dan and she thinks there's nothing wrong with that. As long as she's able to make the decision whenever she's ready to make it and move on.

"Kent is calling me. This shouldn't take long." Sue excuses herself from the table and struts away from the table and to the back of the bar, leaving Amy and Michelle alone at their table.

"You know we mean well." Michelle sighs as the waiter drops Amy's Martini in front of her and she instantly takes a long sip.

_"Really?_ The constant harassment of proposing divorce says otherwise." Amy mutters through gritted teeth, keeping her eyes on the rim of her glass, "Oh yeah, _and _the constant workplace gossiping behind my back and in front of my face." 

"You know we'd never talk shit about you with anybody else." Michelle shakes her head.

"Then how does everyone know the in's and out's of my marriage?" Amy throws her hands in the air, "I mean, no one cares about Kent and Sue's relationship or you and Damon's relationship."

"Well to be fair, that's because no one's cheated in _our _relationships," Michelle admits looking down at the table awkwardly, "And Dan's thing was kinda.._.public."_

"When Bill and I were together everyone in the office talked about us and we didn't cheat on anybody." Amy folds her arms over her chest.

"That's because you were an intern and he was your boss, Ames." Michelle reminds her, "And also, he was married when you guys first met."

"We got together _months _after that." Amy rolls her eyes, thinking about ordering at least three more Martinis to get through this evening.

"Look. We can sit here and go back and forth all night about this but all I'm trying to say is that we care about you and we don't want you to be in an unhappy relationship anymore. Now whatever you decide to do, I'm here for you like I always am." Michelle informs her with a shrug of her shoulders, "Take it as you will."

"Well, thanks." Amy rolls her eyes, finishing off her first Martini and moving on to the second, "I'll probably forget all of this by tomorrow."

"Wait, why?" Sue arrives back to the table, her nose scrunching, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing." Amy feigns, "I plan on drinking my sorrows and issues away tonight." 

"Don't you have training with Bill tomorrow?" Sue raises an eyebrow at Amy as she leans forward and grabs a handful of fries.

"So?" she shoves the fries in her mouth unapologetically.

Michelle and Sue exchange a look.

"I don't think it would be wise to show up to a _combat _training hungover." Sue narrows her almond-shaped eyes at Amy

"Especially one with your ex." Michelle quips, "That sounds like a recipe for disaster." 

"My life _is _a disaster and besides, I've shown up to work hungover millions of times before. Training or not." she waves a dismissive hand, returning to her drink.

_"Amy-"_

_" _Just let her do it." Michelle cuts Sue off before she can scold Amy any further, "She's a grown woman, she can handle herself."

Sue gives Amy a look and down and groans to herself dramatically.

_"Fine." _Sue places her phone in her purse, "But at my wedding, even though there's an open bar...please don't overdo it on the alcohol."

"No promises." Amy groans to herself, thinking of where she'll flock to next after the bar closes and she's forced to go somewhere else that isn't her house.

* * *

Working for Bill is interesting.

She’s certainly not upset at the opportunity to be working for someone who’s clearly so powerful and well-respected in the office but, it is a little weird at times. Like how all the other interns look at her when she’s walking down the hallway and gossip amongst themselves.

He’s an asshole but for some strange reason, he’s an asshole to everyone but her. 

He doesn’t demand her to do anything crazy by any means; just the occasional coffee run, distributing documents around the office, accompanying him in meetings and taking messages for him while he’s out.

For example, when he’s out in Munich for the entire week handling some bat-shit crazy serial killer, his wife stops by at least fifteen times demanding to know where he is.

Apparently, Bill didn’t really inform her of where he was going for the week and this clearly upsets his wife because they were allegedly having a very ‘serious’ conversation about something and he just up and left for his assignment without warning.

“If Olivia comes in, don’t say anything, just get her to leave,” he informed her over and over before he left for Munich and she did just that. 

What’s sad is that she could see right in Olivia’s eyes the desire to know what the hell is going on with Bill for the sake of their relationship.

A few days later, after he’s returned from his trip and she has collected his phone messages, she heads down to the indoor gun range to inform him of his schedule.

And Olivia is standing right outside of the office, waiting for her.

She claims that she was _'in town'_ and wanted to drop by to have lunch with Bill and even goes as far as offering Amy a plate of warm pastries to butter her up.

She offers a smile and informs her that she’ll return soon with Bill.

The entire walk to the basement, she’s left wondering just how she’ll drop all of this on Bill. Knowing that he’s in the gun range, shooting his annoyance at life away doesn’t offer much positive thinking either.

And he’s pissed, just as she suspects.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know when Bill is pissed because it’s that obvious. 

The way his eyebrows furrow low on his forehead, the low but distinct mumbling to himself, the way his teeth sink into his bottom teeth and how his eyes glow with anger is enough to want to keep her far away but, it’s a part of the job.

“I’m just here to drop off your schedule.” she holds up the envelope after his eyes widen at her in surprise.

“You’re fine.” he gruffs out, sliding the heavy-duty headphones off of his ears and dropping them into the bin near his discarded gun, “I need a fucking drink.” he rolls his eyes and slides into a chair.

Crap.

He has so many fucking moods that she has to decipher which drink he’s in the mood for because his moods are that distinct and if she gets him the wrong drink...he’ll fucking explode.

His eyebrows are furrowed, he seems to have a headache stamped over the left side of his head (he keeps pressing his hand on that side of his head) and his teeth are sunken into his bottom lip. Since he’s abandoned his headphones and is sitting to himself quietly, she has an idea of what he needs. 

Vodka it is.

She never understood why there was a fully stocked alcohol credenza in the fucking gun-range of all places but., she refuses to be the intern to question the status quo. There are only a few interns that know about this so, she doesn’t want to be the one to fuck it up and get the company in trouble.

“Here.” she hands him the glass after pouring a generous amount, “I’ll give you the files tomorrow.” 

“No.” he accepts the drink and gulps it down, his face souring after the large gulp, “Vodka?” his voice rasps out.

“Yeah, I figured you’d want on-”

“How’d you know I wanted this?”

Oh thank god, she didn’t fuck up.

“I-I just assumed you needed a drink. Something to….relieve you from the day I guess.”

“Vodka is pretty specific though. What, you have a binder on what drink to serve me during what mood?”

“No.” she shrugs it off because it’s ridiculous and he’s just trying to mess with her, “I just knew, that’s all.”

Luckily he ignores this and encourages her to go one with whatever she had to present to him. It’s all going fine well until she has to mention to him that Olivia informed her that she’s making the executive decision of moving into a new house and that Bill needs to clean out his garage.

It wouldn’t be such a big deal if Bill just had a regular garage but he doesn’t. Thanks to the rumor mill, she’s already heard the news about his highly decorated and overly expensive weapon garage and she’s too frightened to even approach the subject with it.

He’s visibly pissed about it. She assumes a lot of the frustration bubbles down to him just having some weird hatred towards his wife but, the other half of it is just pure anger over giving a part of himself up.

“Well, I can’t just sell all of my guns. It took me almost a decade to get all of it.”

“Maybe you can get a storage unit? Keep your stuff there until the coast is clear,” she suggests.

“I’m sure the FBI will appreciate the footage of me storing highly illegal weapons into an unsuspecting storage unit that’s the same size as my downstairs bathroom.” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

God, he’s so dramatic.

“Why don’t you just store them here? I mean, it’s not ideal but you won’t get caught.”

He thinks about it for a moment and his eyes flicker up to meet hers.

“Are you afraid of guns?” 

_Yes._

“No.” she feigns, distracting herself by adjusting her skirt. 

He adjusts himself in his seat and leans forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. 

“Sounds like you're afraid.”

So fucking what if she is? 

It’s quite literally a piece of metal that can end someone’s life with one small pull on the trigger. 

“How would you know?” she rolls her eyes.

He stands to his feet and slides the headphones off the table, his back facing Amy.

“Here.” he offers a metal gun to her, “Take a shot at it.”

Crap.

“Olivia is here.” she keeps her distance, “She’s upstairs waiting to talk to you.”

“So you are scared?” he doesn’t give up.

“No.” she shuts him down again, “I just don’t like them. That’s all.”

He sighs deeply for a moment and adjusts his button-down shirt, not noticing Amy’s eyes trailing along the seemingly smooth skin of his hands. 

“You work at one of the world’s top espionage agencies and I can tell you right now that being afraid of guns will keep you in the lowest-ranked job this company has, no matter how smart you are.” 

Whenever Bill has a point (and he knows it) he does this weird smirking thing with his lips that slowly seether Amy with annoyance. Not that she’s paying any attention to his looks by any means but, if she was then she would admit that he’s good-looking and would allow herself to think that freely (to herself of course).

But he’s married, has kids, is much older than her and is her boss, so she knows to never let herself get to that level of admiration with him for that reason alone.

Besides, she’s learned her lesson of sleeping with an older man before.

“I’m not buying a gun.” she crosses over the room slowly, nervously playing with her fingers.

“Well, if you become an Agent like we both know you will, then you’ll need to but until then, you can start with this.” he gestures towards the gate he stands behind.

“I have no plans on becoming an Agent.” she rolls her eyes.

He just chuckles at that, the sound and sight of his chest rising in laughter does something to Amy in a way that makes her very frustrated with herself. She hopes if she keeps reminding herself that he’s very much so married and very much so older than her, then maybe she’ll soften up.

She must not think this all the way through because the minute she gets to the stand, there’s the awkwardness of her not knowing how to stand and him just staring at her and waiting for the green light to touch her.

The gun is much heavier than she expects it to be, it feels like a heavy piece of metal but from the way her stomach turns inside out when she first touches it indicates that it’s something else.

He places a pair of bright green headphones on her ears and does the same for himself, turning her body inward afterward so they’re looking right at each other.

“You know I’m not going to let you shoot yourself, right?”

“That’s only because I know how to make your coffee.” she rolls her eyes, trying to prevent her cheeks from flaring up in an embarrassingly red blush.

She doesn’t like him, she just hasn’t felt the touch of a man in ages and the last thing she needs is to combust over an innocent little touch.

“Very funny.” he rolls his eyes, “Now get into position.”

It takes a few long and embarrassing moments from them to adjust to position. She’s trying so hard to not let her ass graze his crotch as he stands behind her and directs her shoulders and hips that her entire body is tense.

But honestly, when isn’t her body tense?

“You see the paper target at the end of the range? The one with the two bullet holes on the left of the heart?” he points a long finger ahead of her.

“Yes.” she squints her eyes.

“Now slowly raise the gun right out in front of you and aim for the center,” he instructs her slowly.

Her body must tense up at that because she feels his hand land on her shoulder and even though she practically jumps out of her heels, he’s there to keep her down and he offers a soft chuckle.

“You’re okay.” he consoles her, “Just slowly pull the trigger on the count of three, okay?”

She nods in agreement, feeling her breathing hitch the minute she feels his hands gently slide down to her waist.

When he finally gets to three and she pulls the trigger, a girlish scream erupts from her throat and she shuts her eyes to avoid seeing the damage being done in person.

She’d rather not see her fucked up bullet slice the interior of the company’s million-dollar gun range wall paneling.

She’s expecting to hear Bill scolding her for destroying the room but she’s not met with the sound of his booming voice but instead an impressed sound of relief.

“Holy shit, you did it.” 

She removes her headphones and turns towards Bill for clarification.

“Did what?” 

Bill points a finger at that target down the gun range and that’s what she sees it.

A bullet hole right in the middle of the heart.

_“I did that?”_ her jaw drops in shock.

“And you said you wouldn’t make a great Agent.” he offers a genuine smile and Amy finds herself short of breath.

They stand like that for a moment. Not because she wants to but honestly because she’s still in shock from actually shooting a gun that she’s at a loss for words and doesn’t know how to handle what’s going on.

It takes her a moment to realize that his hands are still on her waist and they have to do the whole awkward pull away from one another thing and when they’re apart, she releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“Thanks.” She keeps it short and simple.

There’s a moment when he goes to move the hair out of her eyes and behind her ear and she feels her heart racing.

If she was crazy enough and didn’t care about her job and making a living for herself, she would go against everything she would believe in and kiss him but she doesn’t.

And she scolds herself for going as far as actually thinking about doing it.

Things are going well for her, she can’t jeopardize that. 

Selina has taken a liking to her, she gets a steady paycheck that’s enough to pay her share of the rent and leave her with about five hundred left in the bank (which she always saves for a rainy day), she’s earned the respect of her colleagues and is already making a name for herself within the company.

“Your wife is upstairs.” she reminds him but really herself, “I’ll tell her that you’ll be up soon.” She tries to be professional and pull away.

He reaches out to pull her back and she feels her breath get stuck in her throat.

“Stay. She’s just up there to start an argument with me.” 

And if you stay down here, you’ll get into an even bigger argument with her.

“You’re drunk.” she keeps her distance, “....and your wife is waiting for you.”

“Let her wait.” he encourages her, “I have something else I’d rather do.”

He bends down to kiss her and had she stayed frozen, it would’ve been the picture-perfect romantic kiss she secretly loved.

But she jolts her body backward to avoid him altogether, sending her against the wall and him practically tripping over his feet and ending up on the floor.

“What the he-”

_“I’m sorry!”_ her face flares into a blush, “I-I didn’t know how to react.”

“So pushing me to the floor was the answer?” he heaves himself off the ground, dusting away at his pants.

“You were about to kiss me.” she hisses at him, running a hand through her low ponytail.

_“And?”_ Bill blinks at her.

“And that’s_ wrong._” she throws her hands in the air, “I want to earn my way up this company, not be promoted because you want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Then why would y-”

“I want to fuck you.” he admits, “ Clearly you’re not ready to admit to you wanting to fuck me.”

She pauses and feels her chest tighten up almost instantly, the breath leaving her body.

Sure, she’s always admired the cut of his jaw from afar every so often but she’s never openly expressed that attraction to anyone but herself. Even though he’s popped into her dreams in the most inappropriate, inhumane ways, she’d never acknowledge or admit it.

In private, she can lust after him all she wants but in real life, she could never do it.

She wouldn’t want her future husband to fuck his intern.

So she certainly won’t do it with another woman’s husband.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate.” she keeps her eyes down, “I’ll tell Olivia you’re on your way up.” 

Once she’s ventured up the stairs and informs Olivia that Bill will be up shortly, she locks herself in her office and slides down the wall, thinking of just how much has changed between them in the past few minutes.

* * *

In the morning, Dan's body is fucking sore.

Either he's getting older or the women he's sleeping with are getting much younger.

Luckily he wakes up and sees no traces of Amy in the house whatsoever meaning Eloise can make a clean escape without any hiccups. 

(He even goes as far as to check the security camera monitor in his hideout to cover his bases as Eloise continues to sleep on the couch set at the center of the room.)

He makes quick work of waking Eloise up and fucking her one last time (just for old time's sake), getting himself ready for the day by taking his sweet and precious time doing his morning routine (since Amy's not around to complain about him hogging up the bathroom) and makes it into his office in record time a good fifteen minutes earlier than he's expected. 

It even surprises the entire office because he's notoriously famous for always showing up at least five minutes fashionably late every day.

So much of a surprise that Ben calls him into his office immediately after his arrival to speak with him and Kent and Dan's forced to put down his morning tea and it bothers him _immensely._

Everyone knows that he needs his morning tea to prepare him for the day.

"How's Adorable Amy doing?" Ben questions after he's given Dan a file of more information on the FBI most wanted case.

Dan groans as he rifles through the papers, 

"Hell if I know." Dan doesn't bother to look up, "She was in a mood last night." 

"Please tell me this is your attempt to be funny." Ben shakes his head in disbelief. 

"Kent told me a few days ago that I'm not _known _for my humor around here so I am very, serious." Dan skims the page covering the whereabouts of the inhabitants of the list, "I have to go to bumfuck Rhode Island?"

_"Providence_ specifically but yes, you'll begin your mission in Rhode Island." Kent chimes in as he turns away from the large digital board, "And yes Daniel, you're known for many things but your humor is fortunately not one of them."

"Vegas, Illinois, Louisiana? What is this a country bumpkin world tour?" Dan looks up from the list furious, "Why don't you send goddamn Buddy here? He speaks their hick-hop language."

"Buddy does officer work, not gun work." Ben reminds him, "And sorry your Destinations aren't up to your fucking likings. It's a little fucking _hard _to ask the goddamn occupants of the FBI's most-wanted list to pack up their shit and move to somewhere a little bit more tropical to make our jobs easier."

Dan folds the binder shut and drops it on Ben's desk, crossing his legs defiantly.

"Dan, it behooves us to inform you that it's important you stay on the good side of your wife during this time." Kent speaks up, "With the past..._incident, _we can't afford for our top agent to go through something as legally taxing as divorce and pose the threat of us being found out." 

"No one said anything about Divorce." Dan rolls his eyes, "And besides, Ben's had like three divorces here." 

"That's before we had to go _into _hiding, Elizabeth Taylor." Ben leans forward in aggravation, "The quicker you realize that you're not as clever as you think then the sooner you make all of our jobs easier."

Dan rolls his eyes and sighs. 

"Is there something you two _needed_?" Dan dusts off his suit jacket bored, not paying attention to the two men in front of him.

When he was younger, he probably would've found himself scared shitless to even be in the same room as both Ben and Kent. Everyone knew that Tom was the _look _of their operation while Ben and Kent were the real brains of the operation. Getting yourself called into Ben's office is the equivalent of getting called into the Dean's office and both feelings are _very _frightening.

But now that Dan is older and has proven himself to be the real asset of the company, he doesn't find himself scared of either one of them whatsoever.

"Amy spoke to Sue last night in regards to your relationship and some...concerns came up," Kent speaks cautiously, waiting for Dan to pick up on what he's saying before he says it.

But Dan has no idea what Kent's about to say; he didn't even know that Amy went to see Sue last night.

"What? They find out about everything?" Dan waves a hand around the office, his eyes going wide in panic. 

"Robocop is taking too long." Ben groans, "Kid, did you fuck that temp chick last night?"

Jesus Christ, not this. 

Unless Eloise went around rambling about their encounter then there's absolutely no reason for them to know _anything _about what happened last night. 

But this brings an unfortunate thought into his head. 

_Did _she tell people about them fucking last night?

From the way Ben and Kent both stare at him; awaiting his answer, it seems like they already know what happened and there's no reason for him to try and lie to save his ass. 

That doesn't mean he won't try though.

"Nothing happened." he shrugs his shoulders. 

"_Bullshit." _Ben sees right through him and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Jesus, why can't you just sit the fuck down and not fuck everything that moves once in a while?"

Maybe if Amy put some effort into their marriage and sex life, then he wouldn't have to seek out someone else who was willing to sleep with him.

"This explains Sue's concern for your marriage last night, she seemed very adamant that I speak to you in regards to the current standing of your union with Amy."

"What the hell happened last night?" Dan turns his head to Kent in confusion, "Amy's complaining about something?" 

"Yes. _You." _Ben stands to his feet and crosses over to a file cabinet, "You're not as romantic or charming as you think, kid. This isn't the sixties and seventies when you were encouraged to sleep with people who you're not married to, these women are getting smarter and _our _species is getting painfully dumber."

"I don't see how any of this poses any relevance to my abilities to kill off the entire list." Dan bounces his leg up and down in aggravation, "And besides, I'm the best agent this place has got."

"No one is doubting your skillset as an Agent but we do have the right to doubt your abilities to have a successful marriage." Kent speaks calmly, directing his hand towards the holographic board, "Now, Tom was quite steadfast on letting you go _after _this mission but we convinced him that _this _will be the mission that you not only prove you're capable of making adult, strategic moves but that you're also capable of _not _letting your dalliance with Diana impact your marriage."

"I'd rather slam my tongue in a car door than be taught how to be a carbon copy of Robo-Cop or alcoholic Fred Flintstone."

"Well you're all out of options and it sounds like your wife is one Cosmopolitan away from divorcing your ass so, you have no choice _but _to listen to us, Double 0-fuck up." Ben grimaces at him, "One divorce and we're all screwed.".

"You hear that, Kent? One divorce and we're all screwed. I'd cancel that upcoming wedding if I were you." Dan sighs unimpressed, "Take it from a seasoned veteran, there's no such thing as married sex."

"Unlike you, Sue and I are getting married on the beliefs of our love and devotion to one another, not on the premises of copulation like you and Amy."

"That freak show aside, Tom is sending you to Rhode Island this Friday so we can go forward with killing off the list." 

"I'm not going." Dan declares strongly then turns his attention to "Kent, what the fuck did Amy say?" 

"Unfortunately Dan, we're serious about this." Kent strokes his beard, "We're sending you on the first red-eye flight on Friday straight to Rhode Island for you to peacefully disembowel Fiona Cate."

Dan and Ben's nose scrunch at Kent in disgust.

"Jesus, you even make murder sound fucking disgusting." Ben winces, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You can't send me to murder some harden criminal without the proper tools." Dan protests, "Who knows what that psycho has up her sleeve?"

"Most likely a cute little Glock, nothing you haven't handled before." Ben waves a hand dismissively. 

"Wasn't she the one who took her husband on her lover's boat and dumped him at sea after slicing his neck open and shooting him to death?" 

Kent cocks his head to the side and turns to ben for clarification.

"She just got lucky that day, kid. Nothing to be scared about." Ben shrugs his shoulder, tossing a folder over to him, "Head to the weapons floor and put in an order for the kit I arranged for you. Full of all the gadgets and gizmos you'll need to pull everything off." 

Why does everybody have to take everything enjoyable away from him? 

The most exciting part about doing his job was that he was the one in control. 

He got to pick his weapons, his cars, his hotels, hell they even let him pick which jet and helicopter he flies to wherever he's assigned to go. The beauty of this was that he was in control of everything he did and had the budget to support his truly genius ideas. 

How could he be a genius if everyone was robbing him of that opportunity left and right?

* * *

“What’s your deal?” Bill examines her closely after she falls to the ground, “You usually love combat training.” 

Amy groans as she rises from her knee to her feet, trying to capture her balance and not fall on her ass to the mat once again.

“Can we please just get over this already?” she rolls her neck, hitting her bag gloves against one another as she lets out a harsh breath.

Bill eyes her up and down, craning his neck to look around the now empty training room and holds the pair of mitts by the sides of his face, giving her a careful nod. 

“Calm down your breathing. Your lack of breath control is causing you to drag your arms.” he reaches out and taps her limp right arm with the mitt.

She blows out her cheeks in exhaustion, practically feeling her heartbeat in her toes and she’s certain that if she does one more of Bill’s overly-vigorous combat drills, she’s going to lose what’s left of her fucking mind and pass out.

She takes a deep breath and focuses on the mitts and the minute he gives her the all-clear nod, she begins to bounce back and forth on her feet, launching her fists forward.

As she’s punching away at that mitts, she lets all of the anger and vexation she’s been dealing with for the past few months take over her body in a way that the violence can do. It allows her to be shamelessly, unequivocally emotional and not deal with the sneers from her family and co-workers about it.

And she likes it like that.

She’s either extremely pissed off at everything or she stopped listening to Bill’s directions ages ago because she ends up pulling off an impressive spinning back fist punch that lands right in his chest and uses her right leg to kick him in the shin, sending him right into the mat in a dramatically loud sound.

“Fuck!” he hisses out the minute his back hits the mat, immediately folding his body over to rub his shin, “Where the hell did you get that combo from?” 

She quickly removes her gloves and discards them on the ground, offering a hand to help him up. 

“Shit!” she shakes her head, the hair falling in her eyes, “I didn’t mean to do that.” 

She helps pull him to his feet and avoids his eyes once he’s standing over her, looking down at her in surprise. 

“I beg to fucking differ.” he winces slightly as he rubs his shin once again, “That backhand was too advanced for improvisation.” 

“I wasn’t improvising.” kneads her shoulder with one hand as the other stays on her hip, “I just...got caught up in the moment.” 

“Caught up in the moment of beating my ass..much appreciated.” Bill winces yet again sinking to sit on the edge of the ring, taking a deep breath and letting his chest rise and fall with each breath, “I think I need to head to the medical office.” 

“No.” Amy insists, “You’d be better off going under the knife with some freshly graduated intern who’s afraid of blood. Just…..let me see.” 

Bill turns his body and lifts an eyebrow at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry?” 

She’s actually in shock at what she said. She didn’t mean to offer assistance to him, it just...came out before she could help it and she already feels her cheeks flaring in embarrassment about it.

She releases a harsh breath and runs a hand through her messy ponytail, trying to find a way to make this conversation not as painfully awkward as it already it. 

“Just let me see your shin. It’s not like I’m asking you to get naked.” she rolls her eyes, not believing just how she manages to fuck up every conversation she’s apart of. 

And Bill, (being the asshole he is), fucking smirks at the word naked and looks her up and down.

“Is this the part where you change into a slinky nurse’s get up?” Bill teases her as she steps under the rope and drops to the vinyl gym floor.

Immediately her shoulders tense at that, her breathing hitching for a pregnant pause and she feels a pit form at the bottom of her stomach. 

“Not for you, asshole.” Amy turns away, making her way to the opposing side of the room to retrieve the first aid kit from the abandoned marble reception desk.

As she retrieves the kit and returns back to the mat, she feels his eyes on her the entire time, watching her closely like an animal stalking its prey. 

She feels like with one sudden move, she’ll be fucked up.

“I never pegged you to be skilled with a first aid kit.” He watches her in amazement after she quickly applies the Voltaren gel on his bruised shin.

“You know my mom’s a nurse, Bill.” Amy rolls her eyes, not giving in to his attempt of conversation.

“I figured that was apart of your cover story. No offense.” He offers smoothly.

She takes a deep breath and focuses on wrapping the tan gauze around his muscular shin, keeping her eyes focused on his shin and only that.

She doesn’t need him accusing her of taking lingering looks at his body, she’ll never hear the end of it. 

It’s the first time they’ve truly been alone since Selina’s hired him back and she’s painterly waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

She knows Bill too well to know that this whole ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ performance was a load of designer bullshit and she is quite adamant about not falling under his attempts of charming the pants off of her. 

It may have worked when she was an insecure and naive intern who certainly knew no better but now, she knows much better. 

“None taken.” she grits through her teeth, focusing on securing the gauze.

A moment of silence wafers through the air and Bill obnoxiously clears his throat, demanding her attention yet again and it infuriates her.

“Stop moving so I can secure the gauze,” she orders him, not bothering to look him in the eye.

“Why were you so upset this morning?” he ignores her orders.

“Stop moving.” she ignores him in return, securing a pin from the kit and clasping it with the thick material.

“Typically when you’re hungover you tend to be extremely angry, maybe that’s what it was.” Bill begins speaking to himself, fully aware that Amy can hear him.

“I can hear you.” she rolls her eyes, snatching the pair of scissors from the kit with her eyes now boring into his.

“Great. Feel free to chime in.” he offers her an intolerable smirk.

Without much thought, she holds the scissors right under his strong chin and holds his face in freehand, enjoying the sound of his breathing hitching in surprise.

“I don’t know what dirty plan you have hidden up your fucking sleeve but just know if it has anything to do with me, I will fucking kill you in your goddamn sleep.” she grits to him, holding the scissors painfully close to his neck, watching his Adam’s Apple bob nervously.

She goes to move the scissors away from his neck but is swept off her feet as he rolls backward, sending her to crash right into the mat and him landing right on top of her, the pair of scissors nestled in his hand.

“See, you’re not going to do that because you need me. I don’t know if you’ve heard yet but you’re slowly becoming the laughing stock of this agency and we both know you’re too talented and skilled for that.”

She squirms under his body helplessly; he was always so much bigger than her.

“Get off of me.” she snarls at him dangerously.

“Not if you’re going to roll off this mask, trot back to your suburban home and let that husband of yours fuck your mental state up again.” Bill looks her up and down, “It’s pitiful that you’re letting Dan Egan of all people embarrass you.”

“You know nothing about me.” her voice is intense and she doesn’t give up on trying to squirm from underneath his body.

And the fucking asshole chortles in laughter at her.

“So why did you stay at the hotel last night,then? Doubt you and your husband had a night away at our old spot if we was entertaining a guest of his own.”

Wait, what?

“What are you talking about?” she studies his face frantically, “What do you know?”

“Where should I start: you staying at our timeshare last night or your husband sleeping with some social media-round heel who just got her online undergraduate degree?”

She flips them over and pulls her emergency blade from her bra strap, holding it to his throat.

“Talk.” she grits at him, digging the blade into his skin slightly. 

“Put down the knife, Amy.” Bill remains unfazed, staring her right in the eyes.

“Tell me what you saw.” She repeats herself, taking the time to press her free hand around his throat, enjoying the way he begins to gasp for air.

Much against his will, he nods in agreement and tells her to meet him in his old office in a few.

By the time they part ways to their offices, she finally gets a sense of the clock and notices that it’s already 10 o’clock and the office is a Ghost Town.

Once she’s in the comfort of her office, she locks the main door, slides the windows to the darkest tint available, locks herself in her bathroom and hops into the shower for a quick moment, scrubbing herself from the treacherous workout Bill put her through for over two hours.

As the hot water hits her skin, she can’t help but release an embarrassingly loud groan, falling under the sensation of the warm jets.

This was all starting to get too overwhelming. 

She’s due to handle some of the world’s most dangerous serial killers this week alongside her ex all while her marriage is falling apart, how the fuck did her life sink this low?

She’s mad at everybody and she has every right to be.

She’s mad at her friends for nudging her to get a divorce every second of the day, mad at her Mom for having an inch of hope for Amy and Dan to ‘get through this rough patch’, mad at Selina for forcing Bill back into her life, mad at Bill for...well, being Bill and mad at Dan for being his usual, sleazy self. 

Despite all of that, she’s pretty mad at herself though.

There was once a time, long ago when Amy knew her worth.

She knew how she deserved to be treated and what she would and wouldn’t tolerate.

And now she’s still married to Dan despite him treating her like a fucking plastic take-out bag that's already been stained and used to its full capacity.

"Jesus! What the fuck are you doing in here?" she practically stumbles over herself as she exits her bathroom, entering her office and is met with Bill waiting for her on the couch.

Bill takes a deep breath and taps his fingertips against his tablet, looking her up and down.

"Selina wanted footage of Dan cheating on you and I got it. It's from last night where you were in the old timeshare and I was supposed to deliver this to her last night but, I wanted to be a good partner and offer you the first look since you're so curious." Bill informs her, giving her the typical cat that ate the canary grin that forms a pit of anger at the bottom of her stomach.

_"Bill."_

"I'll show you the tape now and let you have it. Better you have it in your possession than Selina." he offers.

She folds her arms over her chest, not backing down or showing any signs of fear even though she's practically fuming with anger at all of these new revelations.

"Why would Selina want the tape?" Amy questions, leaning against the wall of the room, keeping her distance.

"To blackmail you, Amy. Now she didn't say it explicitly but it looks like it's either blackmail or motivation to get you to get the job done as soon as possib-"

"Show me the tape." Amy declares strongly, not bothering to shy away from the truth anymore.

She must've surprised the hell out of him with her answer because he blinks at her ins surprise and quickly begins to backpedal on his offer, practically sinking in his body on her couch.

"Amy, I-"

_"Show me the tape."_ she removes herself from the wall one last time, "Unless you're too scared."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave a comment letting me know what you think!


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